Blue Moon
by Dess
Summary: Temperance Brennan is forced into hiding in the shadows as a vampire. Booth, discouraged by the FBI that his partner is missing and most likely dead, struggles to investigate what exactly happened to her. *Incomplete*
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones_.

**A/N: **So this is an edited chapter. I didn't like the one I had before and think this is much better. Read and enjoy!

* * *

Auburn bangs felt the warm skin of her forehead as she drove steadily towards her home. Brennan gazed heavily at the road with her cerulean eyes, thinking distantly.

_You can love a lot of people in this world, but there's only one person that you love the most._

Why had he told her that? What good did it do if he wouldn't let her…? Booth's demeanor had been dark, she chewed her lip as she remembered, and his poignant stare had cut deep into her. Those words had been like a swig of alcohol, a sting to the tongue and a soothing to a troubled mind, yet predominantly useless.

She sighed tiredly, entering the parking lot of the condo complex with impatience. Finding a space, she frustratingly pressed forward, turned off the engine, and looked at the passenger seat for her laptop and files. Brennan didn't feel like moving, just hearing the wind outside her car calmed her. She knew that dwelling on thoughts of Booth only hurt her in the long run, but it was involuntary and so easy to do, she never considered the action twice. Straightening, Brennan gathered her things in her right arm and pushed open the door, stepping outside. It was incredibly windy, she noticed with a critical eye, for such a humid day. The darkness above beckoned her to shut her eyes, sleep. Blinking away the drowsiness, Brennan locked the door shut and began her way to the familiar home she had near.

It was bad, she thought, to keep having Booth always around. How was it fair that he berate her for denying him before, but now he denied her? Brennan sighed, rubbing her forehead at a headache that was hovering.

The sound of her steps rang in the lot. With a worrying suspicion, she strained her ears to hear someone behind her. Pursing her lips, Brennan wondered if she should turn and observe who it was. On one hand he could be a resident here, just like her, or he could be potentially dangerous. Paranoia was Hodgins' forte, so she continued to walk until she missed the crack in the sidewalk and clumsily fell.

An ankle sprained, the blue-eyed woman muttered painfully. "Great."

"Don't move." A young man suddenly kneeled before her, examining the injury by lightly pushing away her pants' leg.

"I'm fine," She raised her voice a bit, but didn't finish. His cool fingers caused goose bumps to rise across her skin.

Brennan was about to complain when he turned to her and suggested he carry her. A complete stranger, she told herself. Close to declining, a set of piercing bright eyes fell on her with question.

She nodded, taken aback a bit, dry-mouthed.

"I suppose this means I have to get you into bed as well." Brennan indignantly blushed, her eyes widening a fraction. Shouldn't she be offended?

She raised a finger. "That is-" He slid his arms beneath her, lifting her too gently. She ignored the flutter-feeling in her stomach. "-true, I suppose." Her index finger fell, sighing in defeat. Her nervous hands grabbed the fallen laptop and open file when he offered them.

"I'm Derek." He spoke in a collected voice, smiling slyly, somehow unintentionally seductive. "I do apologize for meeting on such unfortunate timing."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She corrected distractedly. His cologne invaded her senses, their proximity surprisingly close. His curly hair was an onyx coloring, the dark locks shining upon the moonlight against his pale skin. He was so handsome, she thought with glassy eyes, although inside feeling slightly silly.

Derek carried her into the building and to her door as she bluntly ogled the man. His bright eyes turned on her, his boyish face glancing at her with a crescent smile, his dark eyebrows raising. Waiting patiently.

Brennan realized. "Oh the keys!" She fumbled in her pocket for the silver object and pushed it into his hand. She felt his cool fingertips touch hers, gasping quietly. She'd been so distracted that she had barely felt how strangely cold he was. How odd, she mused.

The anthropologist grasped his shoulder once he opened the door, studying him again with curiosity. "I think I'll be fine now. Thank you, though, that was very generous of you -to carry me here." His radiant eyes showed concern, then suddenly shaking his head he smiled as he set her down on the nearby couch.

"You need to go to a doctor in the morning." Derek advised, his face so close she could see unblemished skin. Beautiful, the word echoed in her head. "I hope you get better."

Brennan nodded slowly, frustratingly distracted by his presence.

"I-" The thick air between them (or was it just her imagination?) was nearly suffocating her, she couldn't breathe. Her wide cerulean eyes had lost themselves in his, the ticking of her vintage clock the only sound but her own shallow breaths.

Derek looked softly at her, his eyebrows pulled in worry. "You can let go now." He whispered, as if someone would hear. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her lips parted to defend her foolishness but the words were lodged in her throat.

She hated being alone. Lately, she just wanted some company since Booth had been dating Hannah. It was like no one even desired her (the drunk men at the bar were not included, even those who were mildly sober) -at least that's how it felt. Having this man so near gave her a confident, yearning sense. For once she felt embarrassed at her desperate thoughts.

The auburn-haired scientist was still latched onto Derek, her arms in the position they had been while he had carried her. Wrapped around his neck.

"Can I…?" She trailed, unsure of how she would phrase it. Taking a risk, Brennan pressed her lips gently on his perfect mouth, tasting frosty peppermint. Cold, a shivering icy that was addictive. Derek was unmoving, Brennan could anxiously feel the muscle beneath her hands tense.

She faltered, her heart freezing. "I'm sorry." A murmur against his marble-smooth lips.

"No, why-" He didn't finish, unable to continue. Derek was silent for a long time, their mouths still near each others. "Why did you do that?"

Weak anger edged his question. She was ultimately flustered, something she was unused to. "I just…"

He kissed her harshly, so much she forgot what she had in mind. Strong hands graced her waist, the coldness of his skin eliciting a soft sound from her throat. The sensual, slow strokes he caressed on her hips were driving her insane as they moved against one another, her face warming as he glided to her throat. She shivered at the powerful kisses.

Then he suddenly paused. He was unmoving.

"Oh, God-" He sounded shocked, ashamed. His breath tickled her throat, cooling the hot, bruised skin there. Brennan's arms turned rigid, her legs felt like jelly. "-I…I shouldn't be doing this."

She didn't want him to leave. Her nerves were sparking in a frenzy at everything he was doing. "No, no it's fine. Really!" She protested, her hands tucking beneath his jaw so she could look at his eyes. Frigid skin met her trembling palms, pushing so he would look at her, but he was like a statue.

"It's fine." Brennan insisted with a husky voice, determined to keep him with her. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, making it hard for her to get some reassurance. Cerulean eyes half-lidded, the anthropologist tried to raise his face to hers for a kiss, again.

It was impossible. Derek had turned still, but his lips, frozen before, continued their tender massaging at the base of her throat.

She… deserved this, right? A man's touch had been long overdue. Booth -he couldn't be the only one…

No, he couldn't! Angrily, she pushed herself even more into Derek, allowing their clothed bodies to feel what they both were aching for.

Derek suddenly stopped his ministrations. Worried, Brennan was about to ask what was wrong when his lips and tongue started to bruise her.

She winced. "Derek, you're being really harsh." It seemed her complain fell on deaf ears. He continued. About to move from him, teeth caught her skin. She knit her fingers within the wisps of dark curls at his nape.

The sharp teeth teased her skin endlessly. From the arch of her neck to the center of her throat, ending at the collarbone, Derek made her breaths come uneven. Almost reluctantly, Brennan began.

"It's starting to hurt…Stop…"

Without warning, he bit down hard. What the-? She could literally feel his teeth inside her. What was he doing?

"Sto-Stop!" She shrieked, trying to push him off. Panic rushed throughout her veins, fear following instinctively.

Blood was trickling. It was tracing down her neck. This couldn't possibly be happening. Tongue was flicking on her wound, a strange tightness gathering around the bite.

She needed to get him off! It was starting to really hurt.

Alarm bells were ringing in her head to get away. To escape because this wasn't normal. If she could just part from him, but she couldn't. His teeth were dug in her neck- if she even tried to dislodge herself from him…he would take a piece of her with him! She was far too scared for that. The pain was starting to become more pronounced, his tongue still slipping on the blood.

Tears gathered at her eyes, from pain and fear. "Get away." She cried, her arms weakly pushing his upper torso.

And he did.

A ripping sound broke in the air. A second later, a blood-curling scream filled the abyss of silence. Dark eyes met her tearful ones, and her body cowered as she kept screaming until her lungs bled.

* * *

When she awoke, there was an almost-dry layer of dark blood caked on her neck. Her hand immediately raised to the sore, throbbing spot right above her jugular with a choked gasp. It felt like ice pricking her skin from the inside, like needles frozen and uncomfortably pinned in her neck. Eyes wide open in tamed fear, Brennan looked to her surroundings for a sign of familiarity. A clean, Victorian-like styled room met her gaze. She lay in a bundle of thick satin bed sheets, cushioned by the mattress beneath her.

The hand before on her bloody neck now was heavily pressed to her forehead. To remember anything, she desperately needed to have some recollection of what had happened. Anxiety was whizzing around her head, strangling her.

_I've been abducted. That's the only explanation. Could there be another one? Could there? And I've been…bitten. This bite…it should have killed me. I'm missing so much skin. The blood, it's all over me._

The suspicious expression on her face was becoming incredulous. She should actually be dead. All the blood on her, it was too much. If anything, she should have gone unconscious from the blood loss and never have woken up again. Glancing down at her right hand, she resisted the urge to throw up, because that was honestly what she felt like doing. The blood stained her apparently pale fingers…hands…and -she gave a reluctant look over of her body, but it was clothed, so she raised her shirt up to her chest and her breathing sped up- body.

_My skin…it's…_

The slow, lengthened thought was burning her, because if s-she let herself think, it would be over. Frustrated, she was frustrated. This just couldn't be right! Temperance Brennan was knowledgeable in all things anthropology. Especially forensic. But her studies had taken many routes beyond just forensic, she knew more than just bones. She knew bodies. Temperance knew things of the dead, of plain simple death.

And that's what she was staring at right now. Pale, sickly pale hands in between the dark blood smeared over her palms and across her fingers. Her breathing was now shallow. This really couldn't be happening. Involuntarily, two shaking fingers pressed against the pulse point just below her jaw.

_I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming. Please, let me be dreaming!_

"…" A mad, inhumane cry cluttered at her throat, coming out of her mouth. She stood -unsteady-faced- from the navy-lavished bed to walk directly at the full-figured mirror in the corner of the room. Blood was sliding down her collarbone and gliding beneath her shirt. Auburn curls were tangled in a bed head way, her bangs still oddly straight, however. But the face- the face was unrecognizable.

She shyly skimmed her cheekbones with the tips of her fingers, curious and horrified all at once. "God…" The now fuller lips murmured. She let the other hand rest at her throat, marveling the fine voice that had spoken. Reality was seeming more twisted. This couldn't possibly be happening. Her vivid ruby eyes blinked with fright. "Let this be a nightmare…"

"I'm sorry, but it's not." Brennan whirled around, wary as she let her eyes take in the person. A raven-haired man greeted her vision, bombarding her memory. There was another man behind him, who was examining her with an analytical gaze. She disregarded him, her angry eyes more focused on the one who spoke. The one who bit her.

Derek's bright eyes regarded her physical state with worry.

"You!" She accused with a scarlet finger, distraught. "You did this to me." Brennan fought the urge to approach the man and attack mercilessly.

The other one spoke in a whisper, but she could still hear him. "Be careful, Derek. She is dangerous." Derek pressed his lips together, anxious. "It's fine, Dylan."

Derek then returned his attention to her and nodded, transfixed with her enraged face. She glared at his response. Who was he? A name meant nothing to her. She wanted to know why he did this -whatever this was- to her.

"I'm so sorry." He came closer, smoldering those crystal clear eyes at her. An apology? That was all?

"Derek, what did you do to me?" She asked, her throat painfully parched. She swallowed and ignored it. There was a larger matter at hand. For the first time in her life, she was truly and deeply scared she was facing something…unknown to her.

Her being pent with fear, she ran. She ran away to the one person she could always trust.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and feel free to review!**


	2. Missing

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "Cry for You" by September.

**Inspiration Quote:** "You'll never see me again, so now who's gonna cry for you?"

- "Cry for You" by September

* * *

Entering the Jeffersonian, Seeley Booth walked in to see the worried faces of the squint squad. Panic seeped into his brain as he checked his card to enter the platform.

"Oh my god, Booth!" Angela threw her arms around his neck, tears staining his shirt rapidly. Pulling her back, he steadied her small frame. "What's going on, Angie?"

Angela's eyes went from sad and worried to angry.

"You mean you don't know?" Her voice incredulous and in disbelief. Shaking herself from him, she went to sit down in a nearby chair and breathed deeply.

Hodgins sat next to her, holding her face, "Breathe, baby, breathe."

"Brennan has been missing for three days, Booth. That's the problem." Cam said, her face etched with worry for the forensic anthropologist.

Booth felt his heart stop. "Brennan hasn't been answering my calls Booth! She hasn't been to work. How could you have not known?" Angie almost screamed. Hodgins held her in his arms.

"I-I didn't- Bones. Oh God." Booth's face paled . Swiftly, he pulled out his phone and speed dialed his best friend.

Holding the phone, he could see his hand trembling. "You have reached Temperance Brennan. I am not available right now, but leave a message after the dial." Her voice resonated across the quiet room.

" Ange, I'm sorry." Booth lamely said. His heart was pounding with fear and guilt. "I'll find her, I promise." His jaw was set, but his eyes shone with worry.

"Don't apologize to me." Angela said coldly. " Apologize to Brennan when you get her back to us." Fighting the urge to hit him, she hugged her husband fiercely.

Cam placed her small hand on Booth's shoulder, "Go Seeley. Before Angela does something she'll regret." She calmly commanded.

His eyes searched Cam's, only to find a sea of concern mixed with sobriety.

His walk echoed in the sanitary walls as he exited the lab. How could have he not noticed? Was he really that stupid? To not know _his _Bones was missing? The pain building inside him was hitting full force, his fists clenching tightly.

He got into his SUV, clutched the steering wheel and hit the window. He had let everyone down. But more importantly, he had let Bones down. If she got hurt, he could only imagine what he would do.

Driving directly to Bones' place, he parked quickly and got out of the truck. Immediately, he spotted her car. It glimmered in the light of the sun. Mocking him.

Rubbing the fact that his Bones was missing.

Had Hannah and work really distracted him that much? When she hadn't answered his call that he made a day ago, he assumed she was working, like always. They hadn't had a case for almost a week; his time was always occupied by Parker and Hannah. Bones was right.

Never assume.

When he reached her condo, he caught the spare key she had given him from his pocket. Carefully, he placed the key inside and twisted it.

Pushing back the door, her perfume invaded his senses. The mix of chamomile and lavender felt sweet and familiar. Scanning the place, he closed the door behind him and sagged on the floor.

Running his hands through his hair he felt the raw sensation on the back of his throat tighten and his eyes began to burn. Bones was missing and all he could do was cry. Weep for crying out loud!

His body went rigid. What if Ripkin got her? He had easily wiped out the Gravedigger, Bones is no exception. He knew this twisted game was between himself and his former sniper friend. The thought made him twist in pain.

Three days since she had disappeared. Since he had seen her beautiful face. Heard her logic driven voice.

His phone rang loudly.

His voice was weak. "Booth."

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry!" Angela cried. "I know you must be hurting too. Sorry to have gone off on you like that in the morning." She anxiously put in.

"It's alright, Ange. I know I deserved it." Morning? Had he been in her place for that long? Thinking of her.

Pausing for a moment, Angela scrutinized his demeanor. " Booth are you okay? You sound horrible." She worried.

"Angela, Bones is missing. I can't be any better than this." He waved at himself, then remembered she wasn't with him. Standing up, he straightened his jacket and began sifting through the files on the kitchen counter. Searching for anything that could help find Bones.

"Booth, you have to remember that we're all trying to hold ourselves up here." Thinking quickly, she said, "Not that you don't deserve what I told you before, but we're doing all we can. We reported her missing already and other than that, we have to wait it out." She stated sadly.

Throwing the files on the floor, Booth shut his eyes in frustration. "Look, Ange, I'll call you later. I'll try to not combust. One of us has to stay strong." He told her and closed the cell.

Problem was, he wasn't staying strong. He was falling. Fast.

Searching the complex, he sighed and sat on the nearby sofa. Holding the cell phone, he dialed the only other number that could bring him some kind of comfort.

"Hello?" She said. "Babe, Bones is missing." Booth spoke through his teeth, leaning on the couch.

The line was quiet. "What do you mean?" It came out troubled, doubtful.

"She's been gone for three days." He could barely conjure the words. "The weekend. I never even bothered to visit her. Then today, she wasn't at work." He still remembered the squints' faces. Angela, Hodgins, Wendell, and Cam.

The obvious irritation they showed at him, the resentment.

"Oh my goodness. Seeley!" Hannah exclaimed. "I-I can't believe this." She stayed quiet for awhile, composing herself. " I'm sorry, Seeley. We'll find her." She stated confidently.

He winced, recognizing his own words to Angela. "How can you be so sure? Hannah, she could be.." Struggling to say it, he stopped.

"Don't say that!" She snapped. "How could you say that, Seeley? Out of all of us, you should be the most optimistic." Gaining her breath, she said softly. "You're her best friend. I _know_ you'll find her."

"I got to go. I'll stop by the lab later, to see how Angela is doing." Already imagining her grief, she grimaced. "She must be suffering really badly. I'll call you later."

The line went dead.

Looking up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes. "Bones, where are you?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Review if you wish to do so.


	3. Thirst

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "How I Could Just Kill a Man" by Charlotte Sometimes.

**Inspiration Quote: **"And you can't understand how I could just kill a man."

- "How I Could Just Kill a Man" by Charlotte Sometimes

QueenBee: Sorry, Booth isn't playing Angel. It would be interesting, but I have no knowledge of the show. I only have a vague idea. Sorry if that is disappointing. Thanks for the question, though.

* * *

_Derek bit her. And now she was this._ She looked at herself. Her skin was white as snow. _As white as Derek's._ She noticed.

The moon glimmered in the night sky, shining down on her. Walking briskly on the sidewalk, she glanced at each corner. The streets were undoubtedly empty. If anyone had passed by she would have definitely heard them. Her adjusted hearing would have caught it.

She kept her pace, heading to the one place she knew she would always be welcome.

She wondered how much time had passed since she changed...into this. What had happened in between her transition from human to non-human? Concentrating, Brennan breathed in sharply.

There was a pain. There was...burning. Some kind of internal, destruction of fire. Fire. Flexing her right hand, she stared at it for a long time. It had coursed through her veins, this fire. And it had hurt. A kind of hurt that she couldn't compare to anything she had ever experienced. Her mind had been fogged by the pain, she remembered distantly. But now, the pain was only a faint memory. How could that be?

Shaking her head, her thoughts gravitated towards Booth. Was he worried about her? Did he even know she had been gone?

Looking around, she caught sight of a teenage boy smoking. Marijuana from what she could smell.

Ignoring him, she kept at her destination. That was, until the wind blew.

Her muscles were taut. Her neck felt tense and strained. She inhaled rapidly. The marijuana was there but the _other _aroma was more potent. It was something sweet. Almost like wine.

The next thing she knew she was right next to him. Her throat burned and she swallowed.

He looked up from his bangs, "Hey, babe. You want some of this?" He smirked cockily and stepped closer.

That was all she needed. "Yes." She rasped heatedly. She bared her teeth.

"No way." The kid stared at her, his eyeliner widening his eyes. His cigarette fell. She leaned in and broke his neck.

The scream was cut off and she fed.

The blood was warm, trickling down her throat. It tasted mildly sweet. Her hands strangled the blood out of his body, fervently drinking it. It was staining her clothes, the cement floor too. She moaned in pleasure and ripped the skin into his chest, spilling more blood. Desperately, she licked the slipping liquid.

"Hey!" She snapped her neck, glaring at the old man. "Hey, what are you doing?" He was approaching her, his tone suspicious.

Brennan threw the body and ran. Her legs carried her away, almost not touching the floor. The shock of what she had done stopped her.

Licking her lips, she looked down at her hands. They were drenched of red. Her breath caught and she fell on her knees.

"What have I done?" She murmured. The guilt racked her mind, and the loss of feeling human attacked her. She wasn't human anymore. What kind of sick _thing_ was she?

Rubbing off the blood on her grey slacks, she stood and realized where she was.

Booth's home. She could smell his appealing cologne from outside.

_No. Stop!_ If she even thought about him, about his taste…she would lose control. Again.

Suddenly, his voice rang, "I don't know what I'd do without you." Relishing the deep, suave sound of him, she smiled slightly. She didn't know what she would do without him either. He was her best friend; the only person that could possibly understand her.

His shadow bounced on the curtains. "I love you." Booth said. She _should_ have felt her heart sprint. The only thing she heard was Booth's. Sighing, Brennan took a step towards the door.

"Bye, Hannah." She froze. Of course. Who else would it have been? The phone line went dead and she heard the snap of a phone.

Booth belonged to Hannah now. She had her time and she gave it up. The typical burning sensation was absent. She couldn't even cry for out loud!

"Is this what you want?" She knew it was him before she had even turned around. "Is this the man you came back for? One that loves another?" Derek said quietly. Avoiding his gaze, she stared at the floor.

"You don't know anything about me."

He came closer and lifted her chin with his long fingers. "I can see the sadness in your eyes, Temperance." He searched her eyes with his golden ones.

Derek wiped the corner of her mouth with his finger. "You've fed."

"That sadness is because of what you did to me!" She said angrily.

Cornering him, she glowered.

"What" Brennan pushed the words out of her mouth, "am I?" Holding her gaze, he touched her cheek. "You, my darling, aren't human anymore." The words left her feeling numb. Dead.

The concept hit her like a ton of bricks. She _knew_ she wasn't human. But for someone to actually tell her, it made her stagger back.

"You didn't think I realized that when I ripped the _skin_ out of that boy?" She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You did this to me. Why? What did I ever do to you!"

He ran his hand through his onyx hair, "I didn't mean to. When I saw you-" He gazed intently at her. "I knew I had to know you. One hundred and ninety-two years and I lost control." The words practically flew from his mouth. But she caught them just as quick.

" Remember that rich smell of the blood?" How could she forget? " Imagine that times ten." His expression looked like a mix of pleasure and pain. "And it was you. You Temperance." He finished.

" A hundred and ninety-two years?" The pieces started to fit together. The blood, the age, the heightened senses, and the white skin. " Vampires aren't real. They're a myth." She reasoned. The panic flooded her mind.

He took her hand and maintained a grip. "I didn't plan this. Please believe me." She wanted to believe him. He laughed without humor. "Had I known that I would lose control I would've stayed away from you. This life isn't meant for anyone." She could tell he was suffering too.

"If it is a life for that matter." He rolled his eyes.

For the first time she noticed the regret marring his face.

"Seeley is that you?" Hannah's face peeked from the darkness.

Turning around, Brennan hissed and felt Derek pull her into the shadows.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! As always, reviews are welcome.


	4. Parker

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Bones _or "ByeBye" by Mariah Carey.

**Inspiration Quote: **"Now the hardest thing to do is say bye bye."

- "ByeBye" by Mariah Carey

**Note:** Confrontation will happen in maybe two chapters more. I don't want Booth and Brennan to meet just yet.

Thank you for the reviews so far!

* * *

"Agent Booth, I know this still must be very difficult for you to talk about. It would help if you spoke about these feelings."

Booth glared at him and toyed with his gun. " Why _exactly_," He bent forward until he was face to face with the doctor. " am I here, Sweets?"

Dr. Lance Sweets looked over the evaluation forms. "Well, that's not as important as what needs to be discussed here, Agent Booth. Tell me, how did it feel when you first discovered Dr. Brennan was missing?"

"You really think I'm going to talk to you about this?" He chuckled darkly. " Don't try to fool me with these college tricks you learned." He continued to spin the gun between his hands.

"You're going to have to talk about this eventually. Bottling up feelings won't bring her back."

His smirk disappeared and his eyes turned serious. He had Sweets pinned on the wall in two seconds.

"Listen carefully," Booth felt his muscles constrict. " you mention Bones again, I'll have you put on the missing list too. Don't ever talk about her again." He pushed the gun below his chin.

" Especially like she's one of those corpses in that lab." He peered at the papers. "Better fill out that form. Don't want me out of the field, now do you?" Booth pushed him aside and tossed the empty gun at him.

" You walk away right now Booth and things will only get worse." Sweets warned. "Hannah is worried about you, too."

Booth fixed his eyes on the man sprawled across the floor.

"This isn't only affecting you, it has affected all of us. Your disastrous behavior won't make things any better." Sweets got up and tried to muster the courage to say his next words.

"It's been ten months, Booth. The search was called off long ago." He felt the guilt prick his mind as he kept talking. " The team wanted me to give you this." He got something from his desk and handed it to him.

Booth took the envelope from his hands and looked at it suspiciously.

"What is it?"

" It' be better if you read it yourself."

The psychologist retreated to his desk and sat. The fear was slowly building inside his chest. He didn't want to be near the FBI agent when he read it. He knew it would be dangerous.

The envelope was hastily torn and Booth stared at the card.

The cover was black and white, the font elegantly adorned the foreground. The dread swept through him.

He opened it and his eyes fetched each word.

"Now Agent Booth, I know this is going to be hard for you," He gently said, "but it's been prolonged for too long."

Booth kept quiet, just staring at the card. He ran his hand smoothly on the stiff cardboard before gripping it fiercely. His eyes hardened and he rushed out the room, the anger leaving an invisible trail.

" Booth! Come back!"

He ignored his calls and made his way to the lab.

He reached the group of squints and slapped the hurtful card on the examination table.

Shoving his hands violently in his pockets, Booth made a rapid gesture at it with his chin.

"What the _hell _is that?"

Everyone nervously passed a look at each other before Cam stepped forward and folded her arms.

"It says it clearly. You had to know that it was coming." She said sternly. Angela advanced towards him.

"Sweetie, it's been painful, what we've all gone through. This will help." She added with a sympathetic look.

"How in the world will this make things better?" He shot daggers at the scientists. He took one hand out and slammed the table, making the bones scramble and fall.

" Tell me, because I would love to know." His words dripped sarcasm and he waited impatiently.

Angie's eyes watered with tears and she neared him. "She was my best friend, Booth. My best friend! Stop being selfish and accept that you're not the only one in pain!" She practically yelled.

Hodgins placed an arm around her and faced Booth. "This is for the best. It's almost been a year. You're not getting better. We aren't either. It will ease the pain." He explained, his piercing blue eyes covered in sorrow.

Booth scanned their faces and grabbed the card. "Is this what you all do when you lose hope?" He waved the thick paper around. "Just like that." He snapped his fingers.

He took one last look at them before he left, "By the way, Bones doesn't believe in funerals." He trembled a bit and said, " Especially without a body to prove death. You should know that better than anyone."

He walked out the Jeffersonian, and headed for his apartment. How could they just give up like that? He knew she was out there, he _felt _it.

Reaching his home, he saw Rebecca's car along the parking lot.

She came out with Parker. He felt his spirits rise and opened his arms as his 9 year-old ran to him.

" Dad!" He joyously said.

Rebecca handed him his bag. "You have the weekend with him. Here. His clothes." She bent down to kiss Parker on his cheek and said goodbye.

Booth tried to smother his anger and sadness, "So how was school?"

Parker shrugged, " Okay, I guess." He looked at his dad and tilted his head. "Are you okay, Dad?"

Booth took out his keys and opened the door to the apartment. " I'm fine, Bud." He walked him to his room. " Change out of your uniform, we're going to buy you some new clothes."

He left his son to change. Heading to the kitchen, he prepared lunch.

Parker bent for his clothes and looked up to find Bones. She let a smile build on her lips and prepared for the embrace he would want. " Dr. Bones!" He said excitedly and jumped into her arms. He momentarily shivered.

She consciously looked over her clothes: black slacks, a black blouse with long sleeves, and leather boots. The icy feel of her skin still bled through the outfit. Brennan internally cringed.

" Your awful cold, Dr. Bones. Where were you? Dad has been looking for you like crazy!" Parker chatted animatedly, telling her about everything. Brennan felt herself become emotional. She tugged at the veil she had on her head and let if fall slightly.

"I've missed you too, Parker. I actually came to visit you." She spoke quietly.

Parker examined her with his innocent eyes. " You look really pretty, Dr. Bones. Did you change your hair?" His question made her laugh. She knew he probably wouldn't notice anything too specific. She smiled warmly. "Parker, I need you to do something really important for me."

He sat next to her on the bed. " Sure, Dr. Bones. Just let me go tell Dad you're here!" He told her enthusiastically. She quickly caught his arm before he could leave.

" No!" She whispered. " You can't tell him I'm here, Parker."

He looked confused. "But I thought he was your friend."

" Of course he is. _But _it's something else I want you to do." She listened for anything, but only heard the sizzling sounds of food. She crinkled her nose at the smell of cooked meat.

She focused on Parker, " I need you to tell your father that I'm safe. That he needs to stop looking for me. And that I hope he," She paused, her still heart aching, if that was possible, " has a happy life. It's better if he forgets me." She said the last words sadly.

" Why? Are you leaving again? I thought you loved us." Parker pouted, she could smell the tears as they accumulated.

" No, Parker." She hugged him. " Don't cry, please." Brennan placed her lips on his soft head of curls. Ignoring the pull at the back of her throat, she teased his hair with her delicate fingers.

" I-I promise I'll visit _you_ again." She closed her eyes and felt the complications of that promise.

He wasn't fooled. " What about Dad?" He pulled back.

" Things happened, Parker. It's complicated." She explained.

" But he's right over there, in the kitchen. Just go say-" He didn't finish.

She cast her contact-concealed eyes on him. " Trust me Parker. _Please._"

He stalled and finally gave in, " Okay."

"Now I have to go. Remember what I said." She hinted and gave him a last hug. He watched her climb out the window and waved. She flashed him a small smile. Wrapping the veil around her head, she put on the glasses she had clipped on her boots and jumped out.

" Hey, Buddy. You ready?" Booth was on the other side of the door and knocked. Parker turned to the door and opened it. " Not yet. Sorry, Dad, I got distracted." He nudged in the direction of the television.

His lie worked. " Just hurry up, the clothing stores probably close at six today, 'kay?"

His curiosity spiked, " Why do I need new clothes?" Why would he need new clothes, he had them all right here, he thought.

Booth sighed. " Buddy, you know Bones has been missing, right?" The words came out a bit strangled. Parker nodded and recalled his meeting with Dr. Bones. " Well, we haven't found her and it's been ten months." Booth slowed down, clearing his throat from the raw feeling building there. " The bureau wants to make a funeral for her. They've stopped looking."

Parker shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like hiding things from his Dad. More importantly things that revolve around Bones, or in this case _is Bones._

An odd noise came from the window. Parker panicked, it was probably Dr. Bones!

Booth approached the window cautiously, " Who's there? FBI!" Brennan swallowed. The FBI had stopped looking for her. Her friends had stopped. Booth had stopped.

She sat outside and pressed herself on the bricks of the apartment. Booth was just on the other side. She inhaled fast and stayed still as he opened the window.

This was the closest she had gotten to him in months.

But now she wanted to be as far away as possible.

Nothing mattered anymore.

She felt the last of her humanity die.

Temperance Brennan is a dead woman.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Review as always.


	5. Funeral

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "Found Me" by The Fray.

**Inspiration Quote: **"Where were you when everything was falling apart?"

- "Found Me" by The Fray

**Note: **My vampires are a mix of classic Dracula and modern. I thought it would be fun for there to be a bit of everything.

On with the story!

_

* * *

_

"Where are you going?" Derek demanded, waiting for her to face him. He sat across from her in a modish chair, the dainty swirls catching her eye as she looked up at him. Dragging her eyes to his, she rolled them. It irritated her that she practically had to tell him everywhere she went. She couldn't blame him, though. Ever since the Change, he always remained by her side and protected her. He bathed her with his affections, and she couldn't deny that she didn't return them. They had developed a close friendship; sometimes it tipped on the romantic side, but she always limited her feelings. She doubted she could handle another heartbreak.

Taking her time in lacing her suede boots, she wove the rough strings through the eyelets. "I don't see why I have to answer to you." She gradually came to a stop and tightly tied them before pulling on the other boot and beginning the process over again. "Occupy yourself with something." She waved him off.

"I'll be back before night." She said and finished the lacing. Placing her palms on the thighs of her jeans, she rethought about her decision. Why should she go to the funeral? To have the constant knowledge that her friends gave up on her reminded? She still wondered _why._ Was six years of partnership not enough? Of sharing Thai food? 'Guy hugs'? Petty arguments?

Smiling bitterly, she released the tension in her fists. All this anger she felt inside, she could feel it collecting. One day she would burst. Who to blame, she was still unsure.

He slid his hands on her neck, massaging her worries away. Derek leaned over to her ear, "Whatever it is you're going to do, you don't have to go through with it." His expert hands pressed on her sensitive spots, and she held her mouth still, refusing to release any form of happiness. "I don't have to be a genius to figure you out, y' know."

He feathered her skin with light touches and she gave in. "Fine. Fine! Stop!" Brennan laughed harmoniously. She grabbed his hands and held them in triumph. "I need to go." She squeezed his hands, "You're distracting me." She wasn't even sure when he had found out she was ticklish.

He took out a device from his pocket. "Here." He handed the sleek phone to her. "Keep this with you. Call if anything happens." He gave her a hard look. "Anything."

Accepting the phone, she dipped it in her coat pocket and buttoned herself up. Brennan enveloped her long brown tresses within her veil. "Are my contacts in?" She asked. The venom from her irises did burn the first pair she had tried on after an hour, she remembered.

His now green eyes surveyed her own. "Absolutely." He said merrily. Apparently, the night she had met him he had sported gold contacts. Now that she thought about it, Dylan had too. He had explained to her that as long as they lived, they would always be red. His explanation had upset her for about two days. How silly to think that was the worst part of being, well, what she was.

She raised a perfect brown eyebrow at him, "And why are you happy all of a sudden?" His face was lathered in amusement. "When you're happy, I'm happy. Very simple."

Brennan secretly wondered why he cared about her so much. It wasn't that she didn't like the attention, but somehow it fascinated her how he could stand to be around her. Not many did. Or had. The glum mood hovered above her again.

"Your strange. I don't see why I would be a reason to be glad." She added. "I'm not happy by the way. You just happened to make me laugh through biological reasons."

"Try to make this as negative as possible, don't you?" He said, lifting an arm and placing it around her. "I don't think you'll ever know how important you are to me."

Moving away from him, she pulled at a section of the veil down until it protected her face. "I'm taking the car." She took the keys from the stone counter and took wind past the door and to the car. The Mercedes glowed red in the sun. Running her hand on the shiny surface, she sighed. _At least my car I want back._ Derek had warned her she couldn't take any of her possessions from her place.

"It's too risky." He had said. Well, he did have a point. Her car disappearing all of a sudden would be extremely suspicious. Shaking her head, she got in and drove.

_I wonder where they buried me. _It was painful to think about. Did they not even know that she didn't believe in funerals? What was the point of burying an empty casket? _I'm right here. Why can't they realize that I'm still _here_. _

She gripped the steering wheel. Maybe it's better if she focused on driving, she thought sensibly.

The amount of people surrounding her grave almost made her crash. Almost. _We don't make slips._ She could feel her eyes widen and parked steadily. All these people, why are they here? She didn't remember having that many friends.

Getting out, she walked soundlessly to her grave. The way the birds chirped and the sun bore down on the cemetery was something else. If the day is so warm and cheerful, perhaps no one really missed her.

By the time she arrived, everyone was facing the coffin. It was being lowered into the carved out rectangle of soil. How ironic. Shouldn't she be inside it, like the real…monster she was. She struggled saying the word. It had left a dirt taste in her mouth when she had first used it. She trembled slightly.

The ceremony had ended. She had gotten here late. Nervously watching, she noticed Booth standing with Hannah. He looked grim. The black suit he wore made him seem even more morose. "Can I please be alone?" Booth asked Hannah, not even looking at her.

Hannah bit back whatever she was going to say and nodded silently. Her golden locks bounced as she walked away. Brennan kept an eye on her until she entered her car.

This was the first time she laid eyes on Booth since the Change. She had never really _seen _him until now. He looked defeated. His brown eyes almost dead.

Turning her head away, the sorrow ate away at her. _Why is he like this? Isn't he over me? _This pain, it felt like it was consuming her. Maybe she hadn't been ready to face this. _Stupid._

_What's wrong with you, Booth? Have you still not accepted the truth?_

Had Parker not told him her words yet? Was he waiting for his father to grieve first? It was the opposite, now she was the one hiding while he believed she was dead to the world.

_How does it feel, Booth? Are you experiencing as much pain as I was? Does it hurt? _She thought viciously.

Looking at the others, she spotted her friends. _Some friends they were._ Why were they here? She didn't want their pity. All their intentions were obviously false. She would have _never_ given up hope if it had been one of them missing. _I'm becoming hateful. Is this what comes with being a monster? _She was scared. Her own thoughts were frightening.

She was so distracted that she missed the mess of blond curls standing with them. _Parker. _At least she knew one person she could trust. Her staring caused him to look at her. He looked at her for awhile and suddenly smiled as he realized it was her.

Gently parting from Angela's arms, he moved carefully and raced towards her. She stayed rigid as he approached. His scent was making her thirsty. It was bad enough being around the mass of people, especially Booth, but his son also carried with him his alluring scent. Breathing out, she stopped breathing altogether.

"Dr. Bones!" Parker whispered excitedly. Bending to his height, she made her lips curve. "Parker. How have you been?"

He surprised her by hugging her. She patted his back softly. "It's been sad without you, Dr. Bones. Don't you see?" He waved around. She restrained a cruel comment from slipping and instead said, "I know, Parker. It's really good to see you again."

"You, too." He let go of her completely. "Everyone is here. Your friends and family. Look!" He pointed at her dad and Russ. She blanked out and bit back a sob. She had completely forgotten them!

Her breath came out ragged. "I see. Parker, have you told your father? About what I said?" She looked into his chocolate eyes. They were quivering with guilt.

"No." He dug his shoe into the green grass. "I couldn't! Not now. I promise I'll tell, but it's hard seeing him like this. I don't like keeping things from him." Brennan felt like an idiot. She had placed an unknown burden on his shoulders.

"It's okay, Parker. I understand." She placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "But please, I need you to tell him eventually."

He nodded. "I-"

"Hey! Parker, who are you talking to?" Booth's demanding voice crept up on them.

_Oh no._

She stood up and tried to walk away quickly without revealing her new advantages. She could have just sped out of there if she wanted to.

Booth's body blocked the way. She stumbled upon him and grabbed his arms as they went down. Her strong person had knocked them down on each other.

The panic spread in her mind and she lifted her face from his warm chest to see him staring directly at her.

"Booth." She stared right back, amazed.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Review, as always!


	6. A Cousin

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones_ or "Move Along" by The All-American Rejects.

**Inspiration Quote: **"When all you got to keep is strong. Move along, move along, like I know ya do."

- "Move Along" by The All-American Rejects

* * *

She was frozen, a strange sensation overcoming her as she basically straddled him down on the grass. Her eyes hungrily roamed his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, the purple hue under his eyes prominent. He had days worth of stubble on his face and he was unusually pale. She was about to ask him about his health when she realized what she was doing. Too quickly, she sprang away from him and made sure the veil was still above her face.

_Get a hold of yourself, Brennan. _

He seemed dazed before shaking his head and picking himself up. They stood like that, staring at each other for what felt like hours. Booth looked away and grabbed Parker's hand.

"I told you to _never_ talk to strangers, I thought you understood that Parker." He was angry.

" Hey! Don't talk to him like that." Her voice was smooth and rich. The change in her voice was one alteration she was glad for at the moment.

Booth gauged her, "Who exactly do you think you are?"

"I'm…" She ran over acceptable names in her head, "Te…rra. Yes. I'm Terra." Her slow conclusion was only apparent to her, and she rejoiced in secrecy. To her it seemed slow, but to him it had probably been normal. He was still mad, his direct stare a conscious reminder.

"Well, _Terra,_" He elongated the name in a testy manner, "I want you to leave. The last thing I need at this funeral are strangers telling me what to do."

"It seems you're a little to late for that." She said tilting her head to the people mourning, "I don't remember know- I mean Temperance knowing all those people."

That was _close._ She mentally smacked herself on the forehead.

_Keep this up and he'll be screaming bloody assassination at seeing a dead person talking to him._

He watched her suspiciously. "They're co-workers of hers." He snorted. "Not like you would know."

Her eyes widened at his reply. _They're co-workers of hers._ He's talking about her like she's alive! Could she have misjudged him? She wanted him to recognize her, to take off all these coverings and reveal herself. She wanted to throw herself at him, but instead grounded her boots into the soft earth. She couldn't.

_It's for the best. If he knows, he'll only be hoping for a false future. I…care too much about you to make your life anymore difficult than it already is. If only…_

She snapped her head up as he came closer. The skin beneath her eyes darkened, purple and black merging into one. She felt the crawling sensation under her skin and shuddered. Her contacts made a hissing sound as they dissolved and she cursed.

_Get away. Get away! This isn't good. _

"I have to go." She muttered. Walking abnormally fast, she closed her eyes tightly and tried to calm herself. She let her other four senses lead her towards the parking lot. Ignoring Booth's yells, she reached her car and opened the door.

"Hey, no," Booth heaved, tired from running. He grabbed her wrist. "Wait." The rest happened in a second. He shivered at the coldness of her skin, the sleeves she had protecting her unable to bring any warmth. She tasted the venom on the back of her teeth building. Twisting him on his back, she tore his hand away and pinned him against her car.

Her mind was in a frenzy. Her thoughts scattered, the only thing she could pick up was that she wanted him _badly._ Her hold on him tightened, her inner monster offering visuals of him, of how he would taste, on the floor, bleeding.

_**Go on, snap his neck and feast. It's only natural. Tempe, this is how it's meant to be. Imagine, his blood, crimson red, pouring out of him. Oh! The taste! The mind-blowing, delightful, delicious taste..!**_

_I'll do it quickly. No one will know. _

Her greedy thoughts were only natural, right? She nodded desperately, yes, he won't care, he'll be dead.

Booth will be dead.

"Ah." His pain shocked her out of her fantasy. Her face smoothed out, looking normal again. The low growl in her throat disappeared and she slipped back to herself.

What had she been thinking? Was she out of her mind! Letting her vice grip on him go, she warily distanced herself a good eight feet away from him. There really wasn't enough space to let her go any further if she wanted to stay near her car. She wanted to cry.

"That's a pretty strong grip you had there." She bobbed her head and kept it hung.

Booth wrung out his muscles and stared at her worriedly. "You okay?" Shouldn't she be asking him that question? He probably thought she was crazy, at least he didn't appear to be mad or freaked out. She would be if she was him.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah. I'm fine." Despite her voice being flawless, it came out thick with emotion. She couldn't face him, what she had done to him, what she had _thought _was unforgivable.

"I'm sorry, Booth." She couldn't express much more than that. "I don't like being touched." The excuse was good enough, and she raised her eyes at him to see him nod in understanding. She caught an emotion in his eyes, but couldn't identify it before it passed.

He shot confused eyes at her. "I never told you my name." She struggled for an explanation and remembered Parker. "Your son. He told me."

Booth still held a puzzled expression. "Why didn't you use my first name?"

_What's with the thirty questions?_

"I don't know." She played with the rim of her coat. "Booth just sounded right. A gut feeling, if you will." She pulled a tiny, hidden smile and saw him resist one, too.

"I never did ask you," He continued, a curious look on his face formed. "Why were you there?" He rethought his words and painfully said, "At her funeral, I mean."

_Can't even say my name? _

"I was her cousin." She answered, the lie flowing easily out of her mouth. It got easier, having all the months that passed by for practice. She did it all the time.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "She never told me she had a cousin." He snapped his fingers. "Ah, well, except for one that she introduced me to a couple of years ago." He looked at her again.

_Trying to imagine me without the veil, no doubt._

"You're not her, are you?" He asked almost fearfully. She let out a dry chuckle, "No. I believe I saw Margaret talking to Max." It was odd, the conversation could almost pass by for normal.

"She didn't mention me often, I guess." Brennan shrugged casually. "We weren't very close."

"Oh." He said. A comfortable silence swept over them and she frowned. It shouldn't be like this, like back then. She's not the same person. They can never be like this again.

"I have to go. Really." She pushed the words out before she could list a thousand reasons to stay. Grabbing the handle of the door, she looked at him one last time.

_The last time._

Forced herself inside and started the engine. She rolled down the window and captured his handsome face, storing it away in her memory.

"Good-bye." She tipped her head and waved. He began to walk towards her but she pressed on the pedal.

She was gone.

_If only all of this never happened. I would stay, Booth. Now, nothing can be the same._

_

* * *

_

Hope you enjoyed! Review, as always!


	7. Accident

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Bones _or "Skin" by Madonna.

**Inspiration Quote:** "Do I know you from somewhere? Why do you leave me wanting more? Why do all the things I say, sound like the stupid things I've said before?"

- "Skin" by Madonna

* * *

He didn't know exactly what to think of her. Under the layers of clothes she wore, it was undeniable that she had a perfect body. When she had almost broken all his bones, her closeness had made him strangely nervous. Her sparkling voice kept him from uttering almost any words, and now he cursed himself for not stopping her departure. She was mysterious, and the fact that he had not thought of Bones the entire time she was there made him feel like the worst best friend ever.

He stood in the parking lot, phone on his hands, staring at the car plate number he had recorded. As much as he resented the idea of chasing after a girl, especially with everything that happened, he had a an inkling feeling about her. Something didn't sit right with…Terra. She hadn't even given him a last name. The nerve of her.

He was so distracted with her that he jumped at the sound of his son's voice. "Dad? Where did, um, she go?" The young boy looked worried, his eyebrows scrunched together.

How did he even know her to begin with? Just knowing that Parker could so easily talk to her gave him chills. He wasn't blind, he had noticed when Parker had hugged her and spoken with her. The scene had been very clear from where he had been standing, but the words being exchanged hadn't reached his ears. For sure, Terra was not normal. He couldn't imagine what they had possibly talked about. It irritated him.

"She left. Parker, how did you know Terra?" He asked demandingly, he wanted to know, the curiosity was killing him.

Parker blinked. "Terra?"

"Yeah. The lady you were speaking with, just now." Booth reminded him, softening his tone.

The nine year-old thought about it. "I…Dr. Bones introduced her to me before. I saw her and wanted to see if she was alright."

Booth looked at his son carefully. Typically, it wasn't everyday that Parker lied so he couldn't exactly pinpoint if he _was_ at the moment. He was a good kid at heart.

"Well, I guess it's time to go then." He stretched his limbs a bit, still sore from the twisting he received. Parker looked surprised. "But dad, aren't we going to go back, y'know, to the funeral?"

He grabbed his son's shoulders with one arm and walked him to the truck. Their steps echoed in the lot. "Me and you both know that funeral is a sham. I don't believe in it, and from I can tell you don't either."

The squints could mourn all they want, but he knew that she couldn't be dead. Temperance Brennan would not just die without a fight, she was a survivor. Somewhere out there, she was alive and he was going to find her. The engine of the SUV purred to life and he exited the cemetery, away from the dead and the deceit.

"Dad, I talked to Bones." Booth pressed the brake, the tires screeching. Cars honked behind him along with a string of curses emitting from the scrolled down windows. Booth turned to his son and tried to soak in his words.

"Parker," He couldn't believe what he had heard. At first he thought that the funeral had played tricks with his mind, after all it was his _six-year partner _that had just been pronounced dead. Could he be experiencing hallucinations? Breathing in deeply, he began driving again.

He gave a side glance at his son. ",what are you talking about?" He couldn't handle his own son having imaginary friends, especially a friend that was Bones. Turning down the radio, he waited patiently for him to answer.

He fidgeted under his father's gaze. "She told me to tell you that," He kept untying and tying his fingers together. ", that you should stop looking for her."

A breath of relief was released.

Booth could only press the pedal harder. Anger pooled inside him. "Parker, who told you this?"

The child held on to his seat belt, closing his eyes from the harsh wind. He stared in fear at his dad. "Dad stop! You're going too fast!" A shaking hand stretched, touching the button, and the window pulled up shut.

_Calm down, Booth. He's talking nonsense, but where did he get it from?_

"Was it Hannah? Did she tell you that?" He was furious. Lately, Hannah had been pushing him out the house and telling him to move on. That Bones wouldn't have wanted him to be lying around, doing nothing with his life. Who was she to criticize him of how he led his life? She was completely oblivious to how hurt he was over _everything._

_She's trying to take Bones away from me._

"No, no dad!" Parker shook his head and closed his eyes, he had never seen his dad so mad before. "Dr. Bones told me."

Booth grasped the steering wheel firmly and gasped at the loud horn coming from his side. Lights blared through the window and the impact of the car pushed the truck aside. It took him by surprise, the hit pounding his torso harshly. The truck flipped three times over, suspending against the brick wall of a store, rattling noisily. It knocked Booth's body onto the wheel, the force cracking his forehead just barely. Booth's eyes watered at the dust that hovered in the air and groaned. Blood streamed down his forehead, reaching his lips, the metallic taste making him grimace. Trying to move, he realized he was stuck between his seat and the airbags. He coughed as he tried to waft the dirt in the air away. His head pulsed in a headache and he remembered Parker. His mind worked overdrive, a frenzy of dread and fear kicking in.

_Parker. Where's Parker? _

"Parker?" He shouted, his worry and panic strangled his voice. How could he have been so careless? So stupid? He put his own son in jeopardy because of words, lies! His self-hatred grew immensely, "Parker!"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Attachment

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "Just Can't Get Enough" by The Black Eyed Peas.

**Inspiration Quote: **"Boy I think about it every night and day. I'm addicted wanna jump inside your love. I wouldn't wanna have it any other way, I'm addicted and I just can't get enough."

- "Just Can't Get Enough" by The Black Eyed Peas

**Note: **Missing update last week due to the website malfunctioning. It wouldn't let me sign in! Very frustrating. However, I have got you a new chapter! Read and Enjoy!

* * *

Brennan's face was one of horror beneath the veil that hung on her face. It was exactly twelve minutes and twenty-six seconds after she left that she heard the sharp crash. Her head had snapped to her rear-view mirror, but she well knew she wouldn't see anything there. It was instinct. She was far off from them, the only thing that confirmed her fear was the young scream that rang in her ears.

For once she wished that her hearing wasn't so keen. Or that her organs could function, and maybe, like that, she could hear her heart race and her stomach do a somersault.

_Damn._

She swerved the car in a u-turn and pressed the pedal, irritated at all the honking cars around her. Perhaps she could have spared herself the pain by not keeping tabs on them. She had to admit that all the way to where she had heard the crash, her nose had refused to let go of their scent.

Even Derek had told her, "Don't get too attached to them, Tempe. The reality is, they'll die sooner or later, but you'll never be able to join them." He murmured, smoothing her hair. They were fixed on the maroon love seat he had bought, much to her disagreement on the purchase.

She pressed her head against his chest, eyebrows knotted in a mixture of sadness and anger, "It's not fair, Derek. I had everything planned out already, my entire life. I would continue working at the Jeffersonian for a year, publish my next book, and travel around the world." She thought about it, "China, definitely."

"Why quit your job? I thought you loved it." He asked, intrigued.

She swallowed nervously, remembering the case that shook her up, "I met a woman during one of my cases. She was exactly like me, very intelligent and her personal life was, um, limited I suppose. She disappeared one day," Brennan clutched his torso, closing her eyes, "and no one even noticed. And it was because she never took risks in her life, going out with friends, men, that everyone failed to see she was gone."

She released a steady breath and looked up at him. "I didn't want to be like her. She died because she was always buried in her work." Her eyes begged for him to understand her. "I had decided to change my life after that case."

Her voice became strained, "But now…I guess I did become like her. I'm dead, and no one really cares."

He shushed her, embracing her small frame with his own, "Of course they care, Tempe. That Booth guy is a disaster without you. How could no one miss you?" His tone was frustrated.

"Booth is fine. He has Hannah to occupy his time, why would he even bother worrying over me?" She argued, bitterness leaking from her words. Somehow, though, she knew she was completely wrong. It was the fact that her chance with him was severed that made her depressed.

He gently caressed her face, his gentle green-masked eyes soothing her, "I doubt this 'Hannah" could ever take your place. Don't think that for one moment he or anyone has gone one second without wondering where you are." He scolded, his words comforting her only just a bit.

"Wouldn't you worry if it was Booth in your position?" Derek inquired, smartly contradicting her own fears.

She squeezed her hold on him and was pleased at his whine, "I'm trying to help you, for your information." He declared, annoyed, "But wouldn't you? If for some reason he disappeared, wouldn't you worry?"

She reluctantly grumbled a "Yes."

It was during that moment that it came to her if he had ever lost someone like Booth was to her. He never spoke of anything to her except about herself, which she thought was absolutely absurd, and about his day at work, in which he impressively had a professional doctorate degree in pharmacy. Brennan chose that moment to ask him about it.

"What about you? Did you have anyone that mattered to you? Before, I mean." She clarified, remembering his one hundred and ninety-two year status.

His muscles became taut under her hands, his jaw hardened. Anxiety bit at her, had it been a bad idea to mention his past? It wasn't like he ever talked about it with her, or at all really.

"My brother, Elias." The words rang along the silent walls.

Brennan urged him to continue with a press of her fingers, which were currently positioned on his waist. "Him and I, we had a bad relationship. He was a troublemaker by nature," He rubbed his neck anxiously, "but I had to deal with him because he was the only family I had. Mom and dad died when I was seventeen, they left me and Elias the family fortune."

"Elias was nineteen when they died and he wanted to spend all the money, the idiot. To keep that from happening, I enlisted both of us on the army. He was furious to say the least, but I felt like I had no choice. This," He stretched his arms, gesturing them around, "is actually the Hansen Mansion. I spent most of my time here as a kid." His eyes shone with pride.

She stared at the mansion, expecting it to somehow be different now that she had processed this new information. But nothing happened. "After leaving for the army, my brother and I spent over four years over there. When I came back, I couldn't stand looking at the house. My parents had been murdered in here, it killed me to even stand near here."

"I got a job at a port, stocking and unloading ships with trading goods. I decided to get Elias a job too, almost broke my neck with doing that." He chuckled. "He was a good guy. Always was, he was the best brother ever when he wanted to be. I guess losing him was why I kind of tipped over the edge. Anyways, I got my own place, a shabby small house. Elias kept coming in drunk though, begging me for money for the alcohol. His depression had to do with our parents' murder, he blamed himself for not being there when it happened." Derek reminisced, his eyes strangely glazed.

"After a while, his drinking got so bad that he had an overdose of it. Police came to my door, and I lost it. My parents, my brother, and it was too much." He pressed his lips together in a firm line. "I went to get drunk at a bar and got in a fight with one of the regulars there. He had a knife and butchered me pretty badly. The owner was nervous, didn't know what to do, and dragged my body out of the pub. I was barely breathing when Dylan found me." He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess you know what happened next."

She was so caught up in the story, his death scene flashed in her mind for a moment and she shuddered in fear. She had dealt with plenty of deaths before, it was seeing it happen to one of her friends that made it seem so gruesome.

Derek was waiting patiently for her reaction. All she did was stay still, looking at him with wide eyes. "Does it bother you?"

His question startled her, "Why would you ask something like that? Derek, my opinion really shouldn't matter to you." She was baffled still, her brow puckered in puzzlement. "But no, it doesn't. I had no business asking you a question that was so personal, I realize that now." She sighed, leaning on him.

He was now staring directly ahead, "I killed them, y'know."

She turned to him, "Who?" She whispered, scared to know. Derek, to her it seemed, she could not imagine to even hurt the weakest fly. He was so calm, so innocent (as innocent as a man can be), that him hurting anyone she deemed as laughable.

"The murderers who killed my parents. They were petty robbers who had wanted our money, shot both of them without a second thought. I tortured them in jail, making them believe that they were going crazy. I would show up in the corner of their cells one moment and be gone the next." He looked lost in the memory, and it worried her that she could see a malicious grin forming at the tips of his lips. "They committed suicide five days later."

Brennan gripped his chin with her hand, looking directly into his eyes. "Derek." She stated, "Stop!" His eyes came back into focus. They were wild, his contacts hissed and curled at the edges before disintegrating. She could see the dark red irises pulse aggressively, contrasting against the white of his skin.

"Sorry." He whispered, breathing hard. She tamed his disheveled hair with her free hand and slowly let go of his face. "Are you okay?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and lugged him for a hug. She held him tightly as he calmed his inner rage. "I'm sorry." She said, stroking his hair softly.

"Don't get attached, Tempe. Look what it does to you." He cried into her ear. She could only close her eyes in dread, she knew she couldn't let go even if she wanted to.

Brennan snapped back to her driving, curving and dodging cars along the road. She had to get to them fast, both of them. The scent of blood bothered her nose and it hit her senses like a slap to the face. She felt the tightening of her skin and the crawling underneath. She halted the car with a screech, the tires burning along the pavement. From where she was, she spotted an unconscious Booth. A desperate cry escaped her.

It was there and then that she smelt it. The sour, rancid smell of _them. _She could feel the gears twist inside her beast, the wrath bubbled inside, toppling over and spilling.

She stepped out of the car and the wind pushed the sickening odor on her face.

The fangs pressed on her soft mouth flesh, lengthening.

It was the fact that _their _scent and Parker's mingled that made her coil in fury. Booth's blood gave her a reason to start the chase. She raced after the putrid stench, a growl curling against the gentle wind.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! This chapter was particularly difficult to type, but I finally finished it. So tell me what you thought. New problems arising for Brennan? Of course! Review and until next time!


	9. Monster Within

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "Under Pressure" by Queen.

**Inspiration Quote: **"People on streets. It's the terror of knowing, what this world is about. Watching some good friends, screaming 'Let Me Out.'"

- "Under Pressure" by Queen

**Read and Enjoy.**

* * *

"Toss the boy over there." A rough voice ordered, watching the weeping boy yelp as he landed in a corner, huddling with his knees against his chest. The bleak gray walls of the abandoned warehouse made a heavy aura of fear and crudity. The cries from the blond child ignited stark malice within dilated eyes.

Taking a closer step to the boy, the boss squatted and blew a puff of cigarette smoke into his face. "Shut-up. No one will hear you, here." Looking around in pretense, he laughed mockingly. "Maybe if the leech gets here in time."

Nodding in agreement with the others who stood in a guarding stance, he watched them pour the liquid on the floor. Glancing at the corner, he inhaled the smoke deeply. "It was a shame you had to be in this situation, kid. Hate to do it," The boss raised his eyebrows, "really, I do, but they gave me no choice."

Slick splashes dirtied the cement floor. "You tell them one thing, and they do the opposite. Damn parasites."

The squirming boy pressed his eyes shut. He hadn't been this frightened of anyone in a long time. There were the silly stories that his friends would tell him at school for fun, or the eerie nights of Halloween that had him not too eager to trick-or-treat, but this was something else completely. These men had that biker look, the brawny, tattooed, metal-clinking jeans look. He would've been fine, well, maybe not exactly fine, but less scared if they didn't have pupils that resembled that of a wolf's.

The pair of blue wolf eyes watched him. "That bloodsucker is to blame, you know that right?"

He could only blink. The damp weather and his own fear had him sweating bullets, so he swiped his face with a sleeved arm. This man was insane, or so he thought. Parasite? Leech? What he needed was a visit to an asylum.

"Hmm." The deranged man observed him, his stubby fingers still holding the thin cigarette.

"You're clueless."

The barking laughter that he emitted was only more proof of the mental illness the boy had identified. Keeping his distance from the man, he scooted away from him, although it was hard to do since there was nowhere else to move. His cramped figure was difficult to maintain in the dark corner, but for his own sake he would try.

The last of the liquid was being slipped onto the ground he sat upon. It surrounded him and the rest of the warehouse was wet with it as well. The smell was strong, heady. His head was starting to hurt and he remembered where he had caught that specific odor before. It was at a gas station, where he and his mom would fill up the car with gas.

Gas.

Which meant gasoline.

His heart accelerated, his throat unable to form words. Why would they pour gasoline? On him, an innocent boy. They couldn't…they couldn't possibly want to…

"Let's go boys." The three burly men began to walk away, except for the boss. He turned his head to give him a last look.

"See ya', kid."

His cigarette was flicked and the blond watched it fly in the air slowly. He knew what this meant, but he was too young, this wasn't his time. He finally reached his limit and the courage to speak reached him.

"No!"

The yell was a helpless yell. Could anyone hear him? He breathed silently, the burning item ending it's travel in the air and making a popping sound as it lay on the potent fluid. Sizzling sparks shot out and small flames began to appear.

"Or maybe not."

And he was alone. The man's face was gone, his gaze left to see an empty wall.

The flames trailed their way in the directions of the gasoline and climbed themselves higher and higher, licking the source of their life. The blond boy stared in fright as the whole warehouse began to become alive in the light of the flames. Dark gray walls peeled and coiled as the fire reached them, revealing wooden structure.

This place was going to collapse with him inside it. He was going to die. His thoughts were crowded with despair and panic, leaving no room for him to accept his oncoming death.

He was much too young! He couldn't…tears flowed on his golden cheeks…leave the world…

A block of wood landed near his foot and he screamed. Patting away the fire on his pants, he sobbingly pushed the burning wood of his leg.

He wanted his dad….and his bravery…his mom….and her comforting aura….

He couldn't die like this!

"Help!"

Screaming at the top of his lungs, Parker's eyes widened as the flames danced their way to him, enclosing more tightly around him, no way for him to escape.

* * *

She needed to get to him _now._

Parker was the most important thing in Booth's life, she couldn't bear the guilt of being directly responsible if anything happened to him. With her gone, and then him, she could imagine the havoc he would cause. So with that in mind, her pace quickened and the sole of her boots felt hot from the friction. Her headscarf played with the wind, which she found worrying that it would fall and more so that the section that concealed her face would pull and reveal her face. She didn't wear it for fashion, it was a safety precaution.

Without it-she winced- she didn't want to think about it.

The burning smell of fire caught her off guard. She halted, slightly out of breath and her dark curls bouncing with the air, having come out from the wrap, though still quite tight.

Pupils dilated, she gasped, the sight of a flaming warehouse freezing her legs. The clear voice of Parker's screams rang in her ears. He was in there, he _is _in there.

_**You know what can happen, he told you remember. Leave. Killing ourselves isn't worth it.**_

_But…I can't. he's just a little boy!_

She kneeled and her body jerked.

_**You want to burn? Do you want to die? Imbecile! Think with that brain you were gifted with.**_

_He's Booth's. No. I have to save him._

_**At the cost of your own life?**_

_This isn't a life! Not for me._

_**It's futile, Tempe. Where is your precious logic you so much rave about? Use it. You'll burn. We'll die. Booth can have another son, but we can't live again.**_

_What kind of sick thing are you?_

More screams sounded; to her it was just as if he was right in front of her. They were accessorized with tears, salt reaching her senses. Was she really so selfish as to leave him?

_**I'm you. You're me. We are one in the same.**_

She clenched her teeth.

_Just shut up. Shut. Up._

_**I'll always be here, I am your darkest side. The darkness that laid dormant in your heart until you Changed.**_

It cackled sinisterly, echoing in her ears.

More screams, but she was still outside, trembling.

_I'm a good person. I-I can't be like you. Booth- he needs his son. He needs Parker._

_**He's not our responsibility. Run now. That's what those fleabags want you to do. To go in there and save a dying kid, you burning to ashes in the process.**_

Dry coughs taunted her.

She wailed, her chords high and strained.

"I can't do it."

_**I knew you were smart.**_

_Booth…I-I'm sor-rry…_

"Help." A croak pleaded, and she heard the slap of body against ground.

She looked uncomfortably at the fire.

She didn't want to die, it was that simple.

She didn't think she could withstand a death with a pain much worse than the Change.

She wasn't brave.

She wasn't human.

She wasn't capable of loving.

Not in this cold, frozen body.

She wasn't Temperance Brennan, but something worse instead.

A monster.

A freak.

A "cold fish".

However…

Even if her heart didn't beat…

Even if she couldn't cry…

Even if she couldn't sympathize having a child, because she would never have the opportunity in this corpse…

….she wasn't nor could she _ever_ be a murderer.

"I can't just stay here and do nothing."

Brennan broke the weak door down and entered the collapsing building.

_**NO!**_

* * *

"Please," He caught the uniformed man's arm, "Tell me," He grimaced at the pain of a needle being dug in his skin ", where is my son?"

The paramedic wore a confused expression. "Sir, there was no one but you in the vehicle."

Booth fought against the constraints of the gurney he rested upon. His son, where is his son? A strap busted as he struggled his arms.

"Put him down!"

The needle pinned in more. A wave of drowsiness lulled him to a deep sleep. He only heard a rushed conversation before he passed out.

"Hurry, we have another incident down at an abandoned warehouse."

The police in blue tsk'ed forlornly.

"An old woman called," He sighed. "Said she heard screams. Thought it was a boy."

"No description?"

"Nah. Maybe ten, she said."

"We better get going," He insisted.

"That warehouse is going down any minute now."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! As always, review and until next time!**


	10. New Life, Saved Life

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones _or "Before the Morning" by Josh Wilson.

**Inspiration Quote:** "Would dare you, would you dare, to believe, that you still have a reason to sing. 'Cause the pain you've been feeling, can't compare to the joy that's coming."

- "Before the Morning" by Josh Wilson

* * *

She cried endlessly. Hodgins didn't know what to do. She wouldn't speak to him at all. Only a few nods and shakes of the head would tell him what she needed. Food, water, basic things like those. He sat in the chair next to her bed and ran a stressed hand through his short curls.

"Ange, please speak to me." He begged again, for what seemed like the millionth time. She shook her head, her pulled back hair swinging slightly. Her tired eyes were accessorized with dark circles which made her all the more heartbreaking to look at. His wife, Angela Montenegro Hodgins, was in this devastated state after giving birth to their only child. He felt like an ultimate failure.

Hodgins rested his hand on her own and tried to sympathize with her. He knew why she was so upset. No, Michael isn't going to go blind. When they discovered that, he couldn't put into words how happy he was. The light, shocked feeling that coursed through his veins as he carried his child was incomprehensible, out of this world. Michael's naïve grin left him breathless and the hospital room had disappeared, leaving only his family to enjoy such a miracle.

His attention was diverted as Angela outstretched her arms and waved her fingers towards herself. Glad that she was somehow still responding, he beckoned the nurse to hand him over and gently held his baby before giving him to Angela. The love shining in her eyes was evident through her wet lashes but he could still sense her distress. She equipped a strained smile, looking at Michael adoringly. Her next words were no surprise.

"Why did it have to happen like this?" She touched the newborn's cheeks with slow strokes. The scene would look normal except for the critical sour notes staining her words.

He sighed and tried to conjure a means of comfort but came up short.

"Ange…I-"

"I love him, Hodgins. He means the world to me, I mean I just had a_ baby_!" She laughed quietly, bordering on hysteria. It didn't fit her.

"I had my son, our son," She corrected, "today. It should be the best day of my life, right? Shouldn't it?" She looked at his eyes directly and the question suddenly seemed difficult to answer.

He contemplated it and almost hit himself for doing that. "Of course, Ange. It's the best day of our life. I know that right-"

"But it doesn't feel like it." Her voice hit high. "I mean, something like this should be celebrated around the ones you love. I-I always thought she'd be right here beside me…"

A wave of guilt and pity coursed his being but he determinedly restrained it from reaching his eyes.

She touched his button nose as thick tears glided on her cheeks.

"And then, to make things better," She started sarcastically, "Her soul mate is right next door unconscious along with Parker."

It was frightening to see and hear Angela use such a tone. It didn't fit with her usual sentimental personality. He was genuinely worried about her.

The events that took place today shook him to the core. Booth in an accident? His son kidnapped and then saved at a burning warehouse? Things were beyond bizarre and they boggled his astute brain. His heart still held, though, for himself and his family. 's untimely death was the root of all the misery, and it appears to be spreading too, he judged. His heart skittered as he recalled the funeral that had initiated all the pain.

_He's a miracle. Miracle._

She blew a long breath and closed her eyes momentarily, "I'm just so…"

"I know." He smiled tentatively and moved closer, taking hold of her hand and delving into weary pools of coffee-swirled eyes. "But we'll get through it. Don't you know? None of them, not a single one, would want us suffering like this. We need to stay strong, they'll get through it." He gestured towards the walls with his eyes. "But please believe me when I say that no one should take away the happiness of bringing a new life into this world. Michael is all we need. I know we would want the same for them if situations were switched."

Angela drew an earnest smile timidly and her hold on their baby was more relaxed, softer.

She laughed freely and a wistful glimmer edged her eyes.

_This is for you, sweetie. I hope you're happy wherever you are._

"I love you." She said as his arm wrapped around her. She leaned on him with exhaustion. The moment felt so peaceful, so she did what she could do, she savored it while it lasted.

"Hey, guys." Blonde curls and a fatigued smile met their gaze. "Sorry for interrupting, just came in to say they're both finally up." Hannah hesitated as silence greeted her.

Hodgins mustered a grin and nodded gratefully.

"Thanks. I'll go see how they're doing. I'll be back, okay?" His blue-eyes settled on Angela's and she grudgingly acknowledged his claim with a stiff nod of her head.

Walking out the delivery room and into the room next door, he shook his head profusely, a failed attempt to lure the stress in his shoulders and back away.

His mind temporarily strayed from the his wife and the blond as he prepared for the inexplicable events that would have to be discussed.

The delivery room was thick with tension as blond and brunette faced on another.

* * *

"You are quite a lucky boy, Parker." The doctor suggested as he checked Parker's condition thoroughly. Circle spectacles lay on the tip of his nose as he hummed consistently and wrote on his clipboard diligently. "Quite lucky, indeed."

Parker stayed quiet and fixed his stare on a white wall, the last image of engraved in his mind forever.

* * *

Booth rubbed his wrists anxiously as the doctor looked over his notes and flipped them gallingly.

"Can you tell me already?" It was more of a demand than a question, really.

"Just 1st degree burns. Very minor, to be honest. On his arms only, they'll heal quickly so there is no need to worry too much."

Booth breathed a sigh of relief and his hunched form sagged against the white bed. How? How? Nothing was making any sense. How and why did Parker get kidnapped to a burning warehouse? He was starting to get pissed off more than anything. They had no right, no right to do this. _They_ was the question.

* * *

Her face twitched. Half of her body was unresponsive and it was impossible do decipher exactly what time it was, or what was going on. Hidden in the shadows, she breathed raggedly. No need to breathe, but it served as a good technique to lower her high stress levels in the back of her head. She hissed as a drop of water landed on her from the top of the distorted roof. The fire had been put out and ridden of. The actual pain she endured just to keep out of sight of the firefighters that searched the tattered building was excruciating. She wanted to cry so much from the movement of her pulled back lips.

A whip of force collided with the air and the next thing she knew, Derek was kneeling in front of her with wide green eyes.

"Tempe," He half groaned half cried as nervousness eclipsed his eyes. "Oh God."

In the reflective pupils of his eyes, she made a noise between a choke and a screech as she met her own image.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Review and until next time!**


	11. Leaving

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones_ or "Shadow of the Day" by Linkin Park.

**Inspiration Quote: **"Your friends all plead for you to stay. Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple. Sometimes goodbye's the only way."

- "Shadow of the Day" by Linkin Park

* * *

She had been inside the Hansen manor for two days now. The blinds were lipped shut and the curtains bound together with elegant red tiebacks. The ancient mansion spoke no words, the only audible noise coming from the kitchen. Brennan blinked in the darkness and beside her Derek sat, his arrival lugging the strong jasmine incense that always burned along the hallways and into the upstairs rooms. She'd been adamant about the incense, claiming in a stubborn fashion that it did cleanse the smell of blood from the air.

"Here." He handed her her favorite white mug, his eyes avoiding her own. Grabbing her banded hand, he carefully wrapped her fingers around the mug and lifted the drink to her lips. It was blood and wine, she immediately recognized. Sweet and bitter, much like her life. Err. Existence.

It was still painfully obvious that he wasn't looking at her. He preferred the carpet instead.

"Look at me."

Bearing the pain of holding the mug with her own hand, she impatiently stared at him. It was all gone, the inside of the glass cup stained red.

"Look at me." She repeated heatedly, angry. Was she that hideous that he couldn't look at her? The grip on the mug grew tighter until it gave out and broke.

Derek's elbows rested on his knees, his face buried in his hands as his shoulders flexed against the tension in them. The green long-sleeved shirt he wore contrasted nicely from his white skin, the dark jeans just the right size for him. His hair was waved back sparingly, raven-colored locks silkily straying in a disarray as they lined next to one another. Details, details, but not even his boyish good-looks could make her forget her own agitated state.

"Look at me! Don't-"

"I wasn't there to save you."

She muted instantly. The weakness in his voice caught her off guard. Derek was many things but weak was not one of them. It took her a long time to realize just what kind of person he actually was. Months of conversations and strolls at night paid off, learning him to be a strong, soft-hearted man.

"I was too late…maybe if…if I could've just- just-" He tried to speak but stopped, breathed, and pushed back his hair with a trembling hand. The shock of his confession had her paralyzed, her bare crimson eyes latched onto his figure.

He lifted his head and his face was visible again. The hollow cheeks and thin line of a grim was set on his face. "If this ever happened again…I don't know what I would do."

She frowned and winced at the action, the scarring of the fire still very painful. She touched her face hesitantly and grimaced as her fingers felt rough burnt skin underneath her bandages. She was scared to take them off still, fearing the disfigured face would initiate another round of wails and cries. Her reflection was hideous to her, upon that she had decided she was not strong enough to withstand her own mirror image. It frightened her.

"The one thing that can destroy us, Temperance, and you got hurt. I thought I told you- I taught you everything you needed to know!" He blew off steam, his stare for once settling upon her.

"I thought you knew better!"

"I had to save him!"

He stood back, surprised.

"Who?"

She raked her a hand through her loose curls and internally groaned at the shortness of it. It had been worth it though.

"Parker." She said looked to the ceiling and waited for his response. Saving his life was not something she regretted. She cared about him and no doubt without Parker in Booth's life, he'd be a wreck.

Derek was astounded, sitting down again he gave her a look. "I didn't know." Inching closer to her, he seemed to be maintaining some kind of control over his mind, the tranquil appearance of his eyes making her nervous. He looked away and gazed at the curtained windows distastefully.

"What's wrong?" She gnawed her lip and tried to stand up, suppressing bubbling hisses. She had to know what he was thinking. Deep in her stomach, she could practically feel the seriousness of the situation and his own pessimistic mood only added to her worry.

"You're not going to like it."

"Try me." She didn't want him to try her, actually. A crazy thought swam to her that she had never considered.

_They were trying to kill me. Those werewolves. _

Months ago she would have laughed off at those kind of assumptions. Werewolves and vampires weren't suppose to exist, but they did.

He lowered his gaze to his shoes and back up again to the window.

"We're leaving. In a week. I'll give you a week to wrap things up, whatever they may be. Then, we leave."

The news made her train of thoughts crash and she yelled, "What!'

He flinched and turned to her, stepping on the broken glass. "I told you, we're leaving. It's gotten bad enough to have the damn dogs creeping up on us, they won't leave us alone. Do you know that? They're going to keep pushing and pushing at what _you_ care about the most until it breaks you."

His fists balled up and he punched the closest thing to him, that being the sofa. Loud creaking and a short 'chop' filled the silence.

He almost seemed to be talking to himself, "I was stupid. I didn't even think of them when I turned you. God, I'm an idiot! They won't go after people I care about because there is no one, but for you there's _plenty _to torture."

She wasn't even looking at him. His previous words had led her to a dreary daze.

_Leave. Leave... Leave?_

"No." She whispered. This caused his rant to come to a halt, finally his attention drew back to her.

"No." Brennan said it more confidently and stood up straight, not caring about the pain. "We can't leave. We won't."

He looked at her like she was talking Chinese. He shook his head, "It's not your choice, Tempe. N-"

"What do you mean? Of course it is! I can do whatever the hell I want. You don't control me." She glared and her voice had gone higher, peaking a soaring altitude.

"It's not either of our choices!" He retorted back, his eyes becoming darker and green fading. "Don't you get it? If we don't leave, we're going to have to fight. I don't want that!"

Again, she couldn't find her voice.

His was hoarse, tired. "They're going to kill us. There's too many of them, and not enough of us."

He was giving up, resigning. Like there was no option left. And there wasn't. Either fight them or watch her own friends go down knowing it was her fault. And as for him…

She froze and held her breath, daring to ask yet fearful of the outcome. Derek noticed her stiff position and stared at her uneasily, "What's wrong?"

He chuckled without humor. "Other than the obvious, I mean."

She asked slowly, "You don't think…" She gathered the courage and spilled it out in quick breaths.

"I haven't seen Dylan, Derek. Where is he?"

He halted in his current pacing and the hand on his chin gave a passing tremor. Time seemed to stay still for a second and she counted the milliseconds with a developing madness.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Review and until next time!**


	12. Dylan

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bones._

* * *

The crackling of dead leaves was a nice change to the heavy silence that had settled between them. Her eyes were preoccupied with the crème blending of colors that decorated the sky while her ears told her where to follow. Sorbet orange, cotton candy pink, and lilac purple. Spring, spoke her mind. She gazed at the colors, trying to distract herself from the doom hinged situation. Derek had taken the lead, his closer friendship to Dylan declaring him the most fit to know where he was. She had told herself not to worry. He underwent periods of gloom very often. It was almost as causal as her non-comical comments on his media-driven lingo. She had been the cause of his depression quite a few number of times, to be honest. A one-sided deeply inflicted affection wasn't her fault, she reminded herself. Yet, the guilt wasn't as sparse as she'd liked it to be.

"We'll find him." She stated confidently, swiftly heaving her weight on one leg and springing with the other. She caught up with him in a matter of seconds and waited for a response.

The only thing she received was a gust of wind as he ran ahead, the scent of him catching her breaths.

Could she understand what he was experiencing? She wasn't entirely sure. Dylan had been a mystery to her for as long as she could remember. And her memory was as sharp as a grade-A pencil. A quiet sigh escaped her lips and she cursed for wearing such lengthy heeled shoes. The outfit kept her looking like a refined lady, something she wanted to keep after losing her life. She digressed. Perhaps she didn't know, how could she? Over decades of friendship he shared with this man and the farthest she could throw out there for herself was six years. The best years of her life, years that were no longer to come. She doubted that she could ever convince him, but the loss he was going through at the moment could never compare with what she had felt as the matter of fact that she would have to give Booth up. No, he_ lost_ Dylan. It wasn't his choice. The choice was taken away.

Seeley Booth. She had decided that in her case she had given him up. It was dangerous to involve him with something as loathsome as herself. She had read that vampires were evil. A sin within itself.

She couldn't agree more.

But to give him up had almost killed her. It felt like ripping in two and the tears were never going to be fixed. She had been repulsed at the idea. It was almost as painful as her Change.

Now she wagered that it was beyond that kind of pain.

She almost crashed with Derek as he came to a stop. She hadn't been looking where they had been going. Too involved with her own thoughts, she hastily halted behind him and peered over his shoulder to see what had caught his attention.

A lake. The dark navy waves rippled as the wind pushed it gently and the large trees around it cast grave shadows. She cocked her head, an action she blamed her own nature, and knit her brows together. She was about to question him when the wind blew once again, this time in their direction.

Between the pattern of lace that hooded her face, she could see the small particles of debris that swirled in the air and the lingering scent that was forced up her lungs made her cough in shock and revulsion. She swatted the air in a bad attempt to force the smell to go away, but to no avail. She was trying to register that information through her brain but it refused. Once she gathered her wits, she spoke lamely.

"I'm sorry." That was all she could offer. Her own eyes were afraid of his so she avoided them. There was no need to, though. Derek wasn't facing her, instead he walked to a nearby tree and his fingers caught something. His figure covered the object without intention. She slowly walked towards him and at an angle she saw crystal clear. The inch to inch size of the ripped clothing only confirmed her theories.

* * *

A blow to the head knocked him against the bark of a tree. He felt the hard trunk fall beneath him to the grass and noted three pairs of blue eyes staring at him. They glowed in the darkness of the night and illuminated enough for him to catch their enormous size.

"What the hell?" He muttered and threw the fishing rod into the depth of the forest behind him, taking a fighting stance. Counting how long it would take, Dylan leaped forward and caught the tail of one of them before tossing the wolf into the air. He sprang again and landed on a sturdy branch as he watched the wolf pound on the earth with a thud.

"It would be best if you left." He declared airily, looking down at them with a raised eyebrow. They only growled back and gnawed at the base of the tree with their paws, inevitably angry. "Wolves," He mumbled exasperatedly, "have no brains whatsoever." He stated smartly and jumped again as the old oak tree shook and collapsed. He took refuge at the small hill beyond that wavered the ground with great height and squatted as the bulky beasts headed towards him.

"Honestly." He spoke to himself. "What do those things want from me?"

One reached him and attacked before he could think further on that question. It hovered above him heftily and his quick snaps at him were easy to dodge. The saliva, however, was not so easy to control. It slipped from the open snout and dripped jaggedly on his neck and up his chin.

"Gross."

He rolled to the right inside the open space between his hind and front leg. Getting to his feet, he reached for the neck with his hands and gasped as thick jaws sunk in his torso. His posture crippled from the sinking teeth and with a groan stretched his hands to the mouth of the wolf. Gaining strength, he pried the snout open and something snapped as he opened it a bit too much.

Dylan ran up ahead only to be pawed at by another morbidly obese dog. It was taller than the other, and he had to suppress a complaint. He wasn't necessarily too bothered, which probably explained his lack of aggressive response. Otherwise, his own mind wouldn't be as reasonable as it was working. Catching the clawed paw, he twisted it and pounced on the head of the wolf as climbed up into the air. It whined and he smirked.

"All of you are ridiculous," He mocked with a laugh. "Is this all you got? Only one munch." He looked down at his bite and the air was knocked out of him as he lost his attention on them. The one he faced now was much more vicious according to his bass resonating growl. Dylan tucked his head out of the way as he swiped and tried to roll out of the way once again. This time he wasn't as quick.

The ripping sound that slicked the air shocked him and he released a scream. Before he knew it, the tightness on his skin spread and darkness grew around his eyes. His usual paleness stooped lower and it became the color of death, sickly and faint. The fangs that intensified in his mouth gleamed in the moonlight as he hissed, pulling back his lips in an animalistic way. The movements of his body became more rowdy as he attempted to pull up but a heavy weight flattened him back on the feathery grass.

His red eyes raised as a figure loomed closer in his vision and struggled to escape. The weight of three thousand pound wolves was more then he could handle. Especially with just one leg.

He growled and breathed raggedly as the figure approached to him, revealing a brawny man. Dylan bared his teeth as he came closer.

"For all the talk you had, not much show, I say." The crows feet beside his eyes said around mid forties.

Dylan glowered and replied in a sadistic voice. "Really, _old_ man. Three against one, not much of a fair fight."

The tall man reached in his pocket and pulled out the plastic cased object. Once Dylan's eyes settled on it he revolted with a jaguar-resembling snarl. The noise echoed in the empty forest.

"It's what you all deserve. You're creatures of the devil." The muscled man looked at him down his nose. Disgust was evident in his eyes.

"Go to hell." Dylan retorted, the vocals rough and eerie. The lighter turned on and as he threw it in his direction, Dylan once more thrashed and screeched inhumanly. The flames licked him up and his snarls carried with the wind as he vanished minutely.

The leader examined around and barked at them, "Make sure to get that leg, too. It's making me sick."

* * *

"He liked fishing. Did you know?"

She grimaced at the taste of tone he talked with.

She shook her head, well knowing he wouldn't see. He didn't seem to care since he kept talking.

"He loved fishing. He did everything for me. Everything. And this is how I repay him…" He trailed off, the smoothness in his voice slipping to a rough texture. It was deep, and she had to look elsewhere in order to refrain from speaking. She knew that she could only make things worse.

He lifted his arm and tore off the branch with one pull. The leafy limb landed with a splash as it penetrated the calm surface of the lake, sinking sluggishly.

She use to deal everyday with the dead, so she somberly waited for his cries. His screams. For something.

"I involved him in something much bigger than any of us." He turned and stared at her. She was stunned to see that his face had contorted into a ferocious snarl. The sunken dark eyes matched his current state and she took a step back to be safe.

His face fell at her moves and it lost some of its dangerous qualities. She eyed him warily and came forward to him. She stopped when he was less than a foot away and noticed his uneven breathing. Unexpectedly, he fell to her arms and she held him to her, reminding herself of his loss before even thinking of letting him go. The dry cries shook his large frame and she awkwardly patted his back, pity displayed in her red orbs.

It took him less than an hour but more than she had expected to stop. She had sat down on the grass and shifted his form on her lap, looking at the stars above.

"We're leaving." He moved his gaze to her and she frowned. She didn't look at him.

"I thought we discussed this already. I can't leave."

"It's not like we have much of a choice." He lashed out. "Unless you want to die."

She bit her lip and clenched her fists.

"Maybe that would be better."

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not! Don't start this again. What if they hurt my friends if we leave. Then what? We have no assurance that they'll leave them alone."

Derek grabbed her hand and tugged it lightly in an attempt to get her attention. "They won't. But if we stay here it's more guaranteed that they will. I…" He struggled to go on.

"I can't lose you. Please. Don't make me beg."

She didn't reply. It was hard to not succumb to his only want. It was reasonable, she knew. It made perfect sense. So why couldn't she?

"You're not ready to fight. I may be trained enough, but you aren't." He tried to make her see reason. "Even if you were trained, two against God knows how many there are not enough to kill them."

Maybe…

"Tempe…" He pressed on her hand and she finally looked at him. She swallowed and pushed him off her with a steady shove.

"I need to think." She started to walk away and expected him to follow.

But she heard no footsteps behind her. So she did the only thing she thought of, she ran away into the darkened night.

Maybe…she hasn't completely let him go.

* * *

She ended up in the last place she thought she would. The building was burnt and it tipped downward, with the metal roof bent and the walls barely held up. The mess of char and dust flew around the torn warehouse, the darkness of the night giving it a haunting feel. Without thinking, she entered the place and inspected it closely, wincing at the memories it brought back.

The fire had been peeling her skin, tearing it off. Her face had been the worst, it hurt more than she could have possibly thought. Instinctively she brought a hand up to her cheek, pulling the headscarf down and breathing in deeply. It felt like she had been suffocating, wearing those things. Now she thinks she's become claustrophobic from hiding behind all her clothing. The heels of her shoes clicked on the ground and she heard the crackle of glass. The hard material cracked and she snapped her eyes downward, observing the mirror. It told her things she already knew.

Grasping the edge of the bandages that secured her face, she began to tug and unwrap the bandages. With slow movements, she started to fear what she would see once they came off. Her breathing was erratic and she finally broke and pulled it off with one pull. The cry building in the back of her throat died as she marveled her reflection.

It was perfect. The skin was pale as she remembered it, however smooth and hard it felt beneath her fingers. The tips of her hands skimmed the skin delicately, and her eyes widened at the reality that nothing had scarred her. But…

It had seemed so real. So sure she would never be able to face herself again, she threw her head back and laughed a throaty laugh in relief. The only thing that had taken a cut was her hair, the short curls reached her shoulders and she didn't mind. Touching her face, she smiled for the first time in a while, even if it was for the wrong reasons. She contracted her jaw and made different faces for the mirror. Silly ones, gruesome ones. It took her mind away from her problems for just one moment in her day. They all seemed to work. Eyes sparkling, she settled for a smile.

The moment was cut short when she caught sight of two massive figures in the mirror. Her smiled dimmed and she turned quickly, words unable to form as she realized what they were. They were _wolves._ Huge, gigantic _wolves._

_Wolves._ It echoed in her head.

She stood up and in less time that she could count they had cornered her. Her breath hitched and she gasped loudly when one tried to bite her. The colossal snout narrowly missed and she ducked in time, running underneath their tall legs before turning on them again. She should definitely run, she was sure. No way she could defeat them by herself.

Could she?

There was only one way to find out. She sped towards them and hauled one of them by their leg, lifting it off the ground before throwing it smack to the wall of the warehouse. It collapsed within itself and sunk.

Derek had always said she was stronger than he was.

The other wolf was already on his way to her. She prepared herself for what she was about to do. One thing she had already taken note of was her physical state. The sharp fangs that touched her lips sharply were quite noticeable and the familiar tightness of her skin shifted. She could feel the dark veins underneath her skin jolt and flex, the dilation of her pupils almost completely taking over her eyes. She felt the power and was ready.

The wolf jumped and attacked. Her hand punched through his stomach and she felt the liquid drip from her fist.

The wolf whimpered as it fell flat on the ground. She saw its legs twitch and move in a revolving motion to get up. Her chance obvious, she reached for its legs and wrenched them. The sickening sound of bones snapping greased against her ears and she let go. Staring at the blood on her hands in awe, she felt her body fault back into her human-like appearance. The disaster in front of her seemed to slap her in the face and she couldn't handle it.

She ran. Ran without thought. And she reached her destination.

Her old complex building. Entering it in a flash, she headed for the staircase and sped up. Reaching her door, her _use_ to be door, she walloped her back against the wall and fell down. Looking at the blood in her hands, she swiped them on her slacks. It was so much blood, she thought it would never come off.

Her eyelids closed and she relaxed. It was too much. All of it, this sudden change to _this_ monster she had become. She just killed someone. Killed. And now that she looked at her hands that were hued red, she swallowed dryly. She was _thirsty._ And hell, the very thought of licking her hands had crossed her mind.

Making a sound close to a sob, she started to cry. It thumped throughout her chest and made her throat hurt. Her head hurt. The cries were painful but she _needed _to do it.

She swore in a hiss when her door opened. Backing up away from the door, she seized and growled low in her throat. The familiar face she saw muted her and she extended a hand in the air before dropping it. The person fainted.

Brennan never felt more relieved as she caught them and carried them inside her old place she called home.


	13. Angela

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones_.

* * *

Catching her breath, Brennan slipped her arm under her best friend's waist and easily held her upright. Making her way inside the familiar condo, she pushed back the door with her foot and heard it click shut. To say that she was blown away was an understatement. Were her eyes deceiving her? She walked to the oddly dust-less sofa and laid Angela down. All of it was there. Her belongings were all in the last place she saw them. She inhaled with closed eyes and stopped midway. She could smell hints of softener in the air. Someone had _cleaned_ her bed sheets. Her entire place smelled pristine. Brennan began to march to her bedroom when something else caught her attention.

A heartbeat. No…

She could precisely hear two different hearts beating to separate rhythms. A sharp intake of breath slid in her lips and she followed the source of the mysterious beat. Angela was here. She could detect her strong heart calmly thumping to its natural pattern. The other one was much more quick. It galloped at a speedy pace and she couldn't help but make an audible gasp as she met two warm doe eyes. Inside her own bedroom was a curious, small baby.

"Oh." She did a double take and stared. The infant carried the scent of her own mother and she mentally smacked herself for not noticing sooner. It was Angela's baby. She could only assume that the other scent he radiated was Hodgins'. Brennan approached him carefully and gauged his reaction. His eyes were wide and large, shining with an innocence that was foreign to her. His small lips popped into a an 'o' and he giggled.

Brennan's shoulders sagged at the sound and she found herself right in front of the child. The baby's fair eyebrows hopped up, then fixed themselves into a cheeky frown. She heard herself laugh and it vibrated from her mouth so smoothly that she stopped and hesitatingly smiled at him. He was even more beautiful than she had imagined he'd be. The soft skin of his face plumped as he frowned and then cried an amused series of giggles. The boy was laughing at her!

That's nice. At least she wasn't scary. "Hi." She cooed and reached for his cheek. It looked so soft, cotton candy soft. A thought made her hand go limp. Was she really going to risk hurting him? Under her hands he was like glass, easy to crush. Clenching her hands into fists, she retreated them. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she sighed and faced her back to him. Not entirely surprised, Brennan raised her eyes to see ragged breaths being tugged in and out by a pale Angela.

The curly-haired artist was leaning on the doorframe of her room with great effort. Her hollow cheeks were being filled heavily by oxygen unevenly. Looking down at her hands, Brennan was unsure of what to do. Hug her? Say hi? It was an awkward situation. Deciding that letting herself have heart attack was probably not the best move, she started to stand up and open her mouth when she was interrupted.

"I'm dreaming right?" Angela desperately asked. "I totally am. Yeah, just fell asleep on your bed and know I'm seeing you here. Makes sense."

She was reassuring herself. Brennan felt pity for her. How was she going to break it to her? 'Hi Angela. I'm actually a vampire and I've been alive for almost a year after I disappeared.'

That was believable.

Studying her white hands, she pondered how long it would take for Angela to realize that she wasn't dreaming. Was it really so hard to believe? To be realistic, she supposed not. But…she had gone _missing_. Not dead. Never that. They had assumed she was dead.

Time seemed to be dragging slowly because Angela was still across from her, frozen to her spot. With stiff legs, Brennan approached her and decided on one thing. She would tell her. Everything.

"Angela…" She let it trail. Three feet away from her, Brennan raised her hand to…

Do what? Comfort her? She saw her mental self snorting at the idea. Of all the things that changed about her after the transformation, her more than lacking empathy was not one of them. Caught in an odd position, Brennan scrunched her hand and it fell to her side. A second later, however, she found herself in an even stranger position.

"You…" Angela had stepped forward and her frail fingers were lightly hovering above her cheekbones. They traced the highs of her cheeks and then, with shimmering eyes, she placed them on her skin. The warmth of Angela's skin, a familiar warmth, rang an alarm in her faltering brain. Her own eyes had widened perceptibly and in a haze of confusion caught Angela's wrists.

"Stop." Brennan commanded, her fingers still wrapped tightly around her best friend's wrists. "Angela, I have to talk to you."

The silence was cruel and Angela's breathing quickened. "Why, if this is a dream, are you so different?"

She tried to escape from her grasp but she wouldn't allow it.

"…your eyes." Angela stared in them, and Brennan had to dart them elsewhere to flee her eager curiosity. She had not thought about her absent contacts.

"Angela, stop."

She eyed Brennan. "And strong…?"

"Could you just listen to me?"

She was getting mad. How bad could their first encounter get?

"But I guess in my dreams you would be at your best, right? I mean, no one would want to see their best friend dead. So, this is good."

"An-"

"Your voice is nice, too. It's almost like you're singing."

She kept rambling.

"The skin is a problem, though. Why so cold? I'd imagine you'd be warm. I would want you alive, so you'd be warm."

Brennan felt an icy stab at her chest. Her jaw went taut and she let go of Angela. Not even looking, she let her weight fall on the bed. Not…alive?

Angela must have stopped talking because the next thing she heard was the quiet stirrings of the wind outside. It hummed thinly, like it was trying to soothe her.

"Bren?" The artist looked at her, something amongst her eyes angered Brennan.

"I went missing. That was all. Why are you all so quick to think that I died?" If she could cry, the tears would be rolling already. Her chest felt heavy. Did they all really want her gone that badly?

Angela blinked, a cloud of puzzlement bathing her face. "Bren?"

"Do you all hate me that much? Out of all you, I thought you would be the only one to still hope. I think…"

"I have my answer." If she wasn't wanted, she could leave. Derek was right. She didn't need to suffer. Why should she care for people that don't return the same feeling?

She always knew logic came before feeling. A rule she had acted on for years.

"I don't understand." Angela trembled, hand on her forehead, shaking.

Look where it had gotten her.

"It's nothing. I'll be going now." She was ready to stand up when a force weighed her down. She had been forced on the bed, her entire body flat on the mattress.

"It can't be you." Angela began to cry. Brennan still felt cold.

She bore her eyes directly in Angela's. "I guess not."

Brennan attempted again to stand but Angela had planted herself on her. She sat on her lap, eyes brimming in tears. Sighing, she raised her upper torso and leaned her weight on her arms as her hands palmed on the sheets.

"Get off, Angela." She waited. Much to her disappointment, she still sat there, with an unreadable expression and tears staining her face.

She didn't want to have to hoist Angela off her. But if she _had _to…

"Just tell me one thing."

Brennan glared. This was not the kind of reunion she had been hoping for.

"What?" She snapped.

Angela was unaffected.

"If you're really, I mean _really_, here then why did you just leave?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Not even one phone call? To let me know that somewhere out there, you were still alive?"

Angela was screaming now, her tears building up again and the dam was close to breaking. Her face was beyond angry and Brennan could see the shift in her eyes. A glimmer of something different shined in her eyes, could it be…hope?

"You don't understand," Brennan blew an angry sigh, "Why are you believing me now?"

"I'm not sure." She murmured.

The anthropologist raised a hand to run it through her bangs. She never thought it would be this hard. Getting her to believe she was a vampire would have been the difficult part. Apparently, not.

"What difference would one phone call have made?"

"Enough to keep me and the rest of us sane." She harshly pointed out.

"I…"

"Do you realize how hard it's been? Thinking that you were gone from our lives, _forever_? An-and _Booth_."

She whispered with a thick voice.

"Did you even think of him?"

Brennan threw Angela off herself. Not enough to hurt her, but to make her be sensible.

"You don't think that there's been one day that I haven't felt guilty? Thinking of _him_. Of you guys?"

She was shaking now. The anger coursed through her body, pumping through her veins.

"You think I wanted this?"

She slammed her fist on the wall that Angela leaned on. The artist gasped as a rough hole created itself there.

"_Who _would want this? Tell me." She had the new mother cornered and trapped. Her eyes seethed and she shot them straight into the glazed brown eyes of Angela.

She could hear Angela's heart beating at a jagged pace, the blood pumping with loud swishes and plump sloshes. Brennan closed her eyes in concentration, she couldn't think about that now.

"I'm sorry."

It was so faint that if she didn't have such sharp hearing, it would have gone unnoticed. Brennan cracked and eye and saw Angela with her hands reaching for her again.

She hugged her in a fierce embrace, repressing cold shivers at her body temperature. "I'm so sorry."

She whispered, the words spoken with tears.

Brennan was frozen, her body unmoved. It felt strange, having someone so warm touch her. It had been months, no one had come this close to her. No one alive.

She gave up and wound an arm around her friend's back, her body softening. She felt light touches on her own back and her eyes traveled to Angela's arms. She was hitting her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She sobbed, her breathing haggard. Brennan just let her.

"I couldn't." She replied, guilty.

Angela continued to cry for what felt like hours. Once she relaxed, they let go and Brennan motioned her to the bed.

Her best friend had regained her senses. Before she could speak, Angela narrowed her eyes. "You're going to explain this." She waved at Brennan, up and down. Then she spoke again.

"And that." She pointed at the wall.

It was, surprisingly, more easy for her to believe that she was a mythical creature! She was vague, but explained most of what she could. Brennan breathed out in relief as she spilled the rest of the story.

"Vampire, huh?" Angela faced her, a steady arm holding her face. She had taken comfort to her own bed, laying on it with ease.

"You do have the whole package." She agreed. Her eyes confirmed genuine belief.

"This is ridiculous. You actually believe me?" Brennan asked, eyes incredulous.

"I do." She hummed. "I know it's weird, but… I know if you believed in it first, then it has to be true."

Brennan didn't say anything to that. She paused in her musings and looked at the baby that had fallen asleep. He slept with no worries of the world, and she envied him. Smiling dimly, she looked at Angela with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, Ange, you have to explain that."


	14. Baby Blues & Death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones._

* * *

Brennan never felt this relieved in her life. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Focusing on the infant before her, Brennan grinned foolishly.

"He's really gorgeous, Ange."

Angela looked up at her and something familiar sparked in her soft chocolate eyes. Brennan couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure she had seen it before.

Without realizing it, her pale fingers had hovered to Michael's face. She stopped breathing and looked at Angela with a pained expression, "Sorry, I-I just-"

"Sweetie, it's fine. You can hold him." Angela was giving her that same look, and Brennan smiled appreciatively. Her fingers brushed his cheek, the warm skin as soft as silk. With cautious arms, she lifted the baby off his blue stroller. He curled his feet beneath him and she gasped as he grabbed on to her body. He was so light, she couldn't help but lift him in the air. She inspected him and he only opened his mouth into a drool-y grin.

"Wow. You are so handsome. I'm sure you'll charm the ladies when you get older." She smiled at his giggling face.

"Michael Montenegro Hodg-"

She stopped her sentence. Scrunching her nose, she looked at Angela.

"Ange…"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" The artist replied, confused.

Brennan broke out into a musical laughter. "Your baby just excreted in his diaper."

Angela only smiled and shook her head, "Gosh, Brennan, you had me worried there for a minute." She reached for her baby, but thought better of it, and crossed her arms.

"Angela?" Now Brennan was the one confused.

"Oh no, this one is on you. This is your _very _diluted punishment for not telling me about your secret earlier."

"What?" Her eyes widen like saucers. She could feel her mouth open to complain but Angela only waited for her to follow her orders.

"Angela, you know I can't…" She trailed off, terrified.

"Go on." The artist had pretended no to hear her, smothering a smile. Brennan sighed and started to clean him up. She did it quickly, clipping her nose with one hand and cleaning with the other. This was _not_ part of what she had in mind when she was with Angela. Lapping on a diaper, Brennan snapped it shut and let go of her nose. A baby was not expected either, but Brennan felt an emotion stir in her. It was strong, ice cold feeling. There was so many things she could not have anymore, the feeling intensified. A child was one of them.

Her hands felt colder than usual, directing themselves away from Michael.

"You must be so proud, having a child so beautiful…" Brennan murmured.

Angela caught on to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. That same look came to her eyes, biting into her deeply. And she finally recognized it. Pity.

Her face hardened, eyes following the same look. "I'll visit you later, Ange." She didn't have the heart to yell at her. Brennan knew it was probably an unconscious look she made, but it still hurt to be pitied. Scanning the room, she started out the door but thought better of it. Turning to a startled Angela, she snapped, "Hodgins can't know, do you understand?"

It came out vicious, threatening. Surprisingly, Angela took it well. She nodded, "I know, sweetheart."

There's silence, and Angela raises her eyes to ask that dreaded question.

"Does he know?"

Brennan winces.

"It's getting late." Her voice is tired. Hands prop open a window, swiftly jumping into the midnight air.

Angela nods, understanding her answer is no.

* * *

Leaving Angela so abruptly made Brennan feel guilty. But what was she suppose to do? Stick around and follow her home? The complications that accompanied that situation would be too heavy, something she was wary to face. The darkness of the night allowed her to walk safely, her thoughts the only thing she could really hear.

This was her comfortable place. Dark, alone, and free. It was tiring to have to cover up so often, so she was happy when her head wrap hung on her neck, her face relaxing as the wind touched it softly.

A storm was building, she could tell. The dark clouds and hidden thunder were obvious, at least to her eyes and ears. Opening her eyes, she looked up. Something felt wrong.

She was never superstitious before. Everyone knew that, but know she had no choice but to _be_. Her own self was proof of that, and now the ominous aura that carried with the storm made her skin crawl.

Surprising herself, she stared at the gray sign of the local park with a bent expression. Sighing, she walked ahead and entered the park graciously. The clicking of her boots are the only sound.

Looking around, she got that foreboding feeling and tried to stay calm. Checking twice with her eyes, she forgot her breathing.

Stupid.

Inhaling, she snarled, taking a fighting stance.

A black wolf flew in the air and landed on her, making the floor of the park pound with force. Brennan jerked underneath the animal. She felt the shifting of her skin, the changing of her cheekbones, and the reeling in her mouth. A inhuman mix of a screech and a growl escaped her as she drew her strength from within her arms and clawed the animal in a grasp, heaving it to the side. It whined in protest.

Three others appeared from behind a series of trees.

All she knew right now was to fight. Dodging the weights that attacked her, she tore a strong tree from its roots and swung it with force. It hit one of the wolves sparingly, only causing small damage. Letting it go, she continued to avoid their movements.

She knew she was going to die, right then and there.

There were too many.

She was only one.

She had let her darker side overtake her and it wasn't enough.

Soon a wolf had her pinned, breathing hot air on her face. She growled at her position, not knowing if she _could _cry at the moment.

A clash vibrated the air, Brennan whipping her head in direction of the source.

Derek.

She managed to struggle out of the wolf's paws, the inspiration that ignited in her raw. Blindingly running towards him, she gasped in surprise as he heaved a wolf out of her way.

His face was blunt with worry and she managed a whispered, "Thank you."

Derek shook his head to her words, clearly mad. He turned back to the enemies and she couldn't recall the last time when she was at loss for words.

He seemed to be all over the place.

When she realized how useless she was being, she snapped out of her reverie and began forth, to help she'd like to think.

"Stay back!" It was strong and protective. She was reluctant.

Moving towards him, she pulled the bloody wolf of him and frowned, "I wanted to help."

He had wiped out the three and she looked around guardedly. Looking back at him, she cringed at his glare.

"I thought I told you to be safe. Do you know what could have happened to you?" He was yelling.

Brennan glared back and tried to reply, cutting off when she saw one of the wolves rise and sprint towards them. "Derek!"

It slammed him on the floor, biting him on the neck.

She was scared, horrified.

Starting for the beast, she was halted by his voice again.

"Run!"

"I can't just leave you here. Just let me help you!"

She was frantic and desperate to get him to safety. Couldn't he understand?

"Look up, Tempe!"

Sure enough, she stopped thinking of his danger and found the rising sun. Fluttering panic coursed through her.

"I'm not leaving you." She whispered, still scared to death. She won't be a coward, but God could she feel her eyes widening as the sun peeked at such a low point.

Still stuck between the wolf's teeth, it growled, "If we all die you'll go down with us."

Brennan feels torn.

"Go." He grunts, his eyes softening a bit for her, pain flexing in them. "My time was coming anyways." He kicked off the monster, getting up.

She shakes her head, she couldn't do it. Couldn't lose him.

"Go!" He hisses, shocking her. Brennan felt the wolf staring at her and let out a cry.

The sun loomed higher.

She lifted her wrap, concealing her face.

In a heated flash, she was gone.

* * *

Clothes. Shoes. Scarves. Blood.

Sobbing dryly, she closed her case and stepped out of Hansen Manor.

Her last time.

* * *

Tugging her scarf uncomfortably, nervously, she knocked on the door. The scents that plagued the mansion before her were so familiar, she almost smiled. Almost.

The door opened, a shocked face greeting her.

* * *

**Five chapters to go! Review and until next time!**


	15. Refuge

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Bones._

* * *

Brennan wasn't the type to ask for favors. Not at all, it was rare that she ever did, and she was always very proud that she could do things by herself, without help. So that being said, it was with great reluctance and embarrassment that she looked into the eyes of her best friend. She held up her black tote, eyes hollow, and spoke deliberately. "I didn't know where else to go."

Angela gaped at her, the fuzziness of sleep washing away as she managed to respond. "Sure, sweetie, come on in. God, you look terrible. Here let me." She took the tote from her hands but grimaced as the anthropologist's steel grip on it wouldn't release. Brennan uttered a tight, "It's fine, Angela", before entering the silent household. Brennan didn't want to feel anything, but it was hard to ignore a concerned Angela when she threatened to slap her if she didn't get a hold of herself. Brennan didn't want an injury this early in the morning.

They sat in her spacious living room, the jade walls all symmetrical and dark olive couches doing nothing to soothe her battered heart. She thought places like these were suppose to comfort a person. "He told me to go Ange. To leave him alone, to _run_."

"Are you telling me he kicked you out?"

Brennan reacted with a high-pitched voice, stressed. "No! No, he didn't do that. He was too good to me, to damn good. So stupid." The tightness in her chest grew. "And I did what he said, can you believe me? The one time I listen, and- and it was all so idiotic, this whole mess!"

"Sweetie, calm down. You have to slow down for me, please explain to me what happened. So he didn't kick you out then? Then what was it?" Angela was confused, and even so she grabbed hold of her hand. Brennan looked down at their hands and let out a breath.

"He's dead, Ange." She blocked out all the emotion that was running through her, focusing on her words. "They caught us, the caught _me_ and he decided to play hero."

Angela made a quiet, "Oh." They sat with a ringing silence, but Brennan didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to sit and think, because she knew that's what would happen, or she might just kill herself. The thought made her shudder, teasing the ripped jacket she wore. Angela noticed and fussed, "Come on, I'll get you some clothes. We're practically the same size, right? We'll just have to figure out how to pass by Jack without him waking up. He's a light sleeper, but-"

"Ange!"

She stopped her rambling. "What?"

"It's fine. My bag, remember? I have plenty clothes. I'll just change, do you have a restroom?" She asked, desperately needing to be alone, even momentarily. She was having quakes of memories rippling in her head. She fought an urge to hurry the time.

The artist looked concerned, minded, but pointed it out. It settled between a closet and the kitchen, and Brennan hurried inside, closing the door. She was breathing in and out quickly, sat down on the tile floor, placed her head in between her knees, and tried to steady her dry sobs. She let them come out in short, quiet huffs, the shaking of her body uncontrollable. It was enough that she endangered her friends, her friends' families, but her only real stable companion? Gone? The flashes of his smile, the onyx hair, and everything that came with him intruded her mind, unwanted as she bit her fist to hold back a scream.

She could hear Angela pace back and forth outside the restroom. "Come on, sweetie, you've been in there for a while, tell me something."

She stood from her position and looked herself in the mirror. Her hair was loose, the auburn curls falling down to her shoulders. The red irises stared back at her, wild and desperate. If she didn't get blood soon it would all be over for the whole household. Including that baby that was right above her, his breathing soft and feathery.

Damn.

"Something?" Brennan scrunched her eyebrows, trying to see if her eyes would change, not look as scary or pathetic. Angela frowned outside the door, clearly not amused. Brennan stayed quiet, and asked, "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

She was dirty and reeked of wet dog. The smell irritated her nose.

"How long?"

"Five minutes. Give me five minutes." Fast and quick she would make it. Her mind was trying to find solutions to all the problems that were rising as she thought.

"Angela, about my eyes…?"

The mother had leaned on the door, arms crossed and mumbling about stubborn scientists. "Ah, that. Lucky you that I have spare color contacts in handy. Can you pull off green eyes, honey?"

Brennan snorted, removing her clothes, not bothering with buttons and zippers. "At this point anything would be better than red, Ange. Thank you, though. I must seem unappreciative, with the way I've been treating you." She felt insecure again, not knowing how she would go on without Derek, or how she would do anything. Angela was a one of a kind friend.

Angela rotated and pressed her forehead on the wall, keeping an eye on the stairs. "Just please promise me you won't leave." Brennan stopped washing her hair and contemplated. Her jaw was tight, her arms above her in a position where they stayed still, what was she suppose to tell her? Of course, Ange! She wished that the water droplets would drown her, considering she was a terrible friend. To her silence Angela added. "Without telling me. Don't leave me again without telling me, please."

Brennan hated to hear anyone beg. Especially her best friend.

"Yeah." She whispered. Catching a routine with her hair once again, she raised her voice. "Yes, Angela. You have my word." Tremors glided throughout her body, her torso and chest tightening. Brennan gasped, turning off the water.

She needed to feed.

Now.

"Angela, I'm going out right now. Don't worry I'll be back, I just have to get something." She was changing already, tightening her boots and scarf. She didn't want to speak with Angela about food matters. It would just be uncomfortable. "Could you fetch me those contacts?"

"You're leaving so soon, already?" She sounded upset. Nevertheless, she heard the footsteps up the stairs. Brennan had to figure out exactly how to get in the hospital, now. It wasn't often that she got to drink fresh blood, something she wasn't fond of and remembered the mess and trauma she was left with, so stealing the blood from hospitals was second best. Derek had managed to retrieve blood from there, which if she charmed someone would be awfully easy, but still the thought of it was wrong. She had morals, but supposed that being a vampire practically broke all of them.

Stepping out of the restroom, she breathed in the air and her thoughts darkened. The heartbeats around her were beginning to slow in rhythm. That or things were becoming more focused than they should be. She felt the air shift, someone was awake. Hodgins.

Angela came down the stairs quick, handing her a small box. "Here, you better hurry, Jack's awake. Bren, where exactly are you going?"

Brennan stared at her, thinking how to say it, or to lie through her teeth. It was quiet, and she heard Angela's heartbeat quicken. "Forget it, I don't want to know."

Brennan smiled a grim one, handed her the tote she carried, and nodded up. "Make something up, to ease Hodgins. He's going to ask, I know he will, you can think of something right? I'll be back by midday, maybe noon." She used her reflexes to snap the box in half and slide the contacts on. Reaching in the tote, she pulled back sunglasses and glided them on.

"Don't worry." She reassured her with a small smile, at the entrance of the mansion, door open.

In a second, or less, Angela was unsure, Brennan was gone, leaving her feeling like she had been tricked of a friend, robbed of one.

Angela hit the wall beside her and cried.

* * *

Think Brennan, think. Wait, don't think, just snatch a doctor. They're easy to manipulate, she reckons they fall easy for her looks. Hell, even before she was Changed she had men that liked her, so it shouldn't be too hard, right?

"Excuse me?" She grabbed a doctor by the forearm, taking off her glasses and slipping into a smile. The slight flutter of her eyelashes caught the middle-aged man off guard. He was olive-skinned, with a strong build, and gullible, it seemed.

"Y-Yes?"

"Would you happen to know your way around here?" She drawled, wrapping a hand around his bicep, looking up at him with doe-eyes, a small red smile aimed at him.

She ignored the urge to yell at him for being so gullable.

He burned beneath her palms, flustered. "Yes-maybe, I could help- where to?"

_Pathetic._

She smiled a genuine smile, liking the hazy look in his eyes, the eagerness in his tenor voice. "Well…"

* * *

She was so _full_. A hand made its way to the peak of the plastic container. She saw blood trickle down the tear she had made and stared thoughtlessly. Perhaps it had been an exaggeration to take so many of the bags, but still she didn't want take any risks. She had downed the blood so fast that it had stained her complexion. And now as she stood and made her way to the sink, the reflection facing her was sharp and almost looked insane. Her eyes were vivid, a forest green in the dim light of the cold room. Her skin contrasted greatly, the white color strikingly bright. Her hair had messily poked out of her headscarf, so the lax curls framed her face delicately.

A groan behind her caught her attention. She lazily observed the man. He had passed out from the strong blow she had delivered to the back of his head. Brennan wiped at her lips unconsciously. Buttoning up the plum coat she wore to her neck, she put her attention to her cuffs and distractedly fixed them.

She knew the man was only dreaming.

"Lucky." She whispered. She wished countless times she could do the same.

* * *

She was angry. No, she was _furious._ Nothing could begin to describe how much she wanted to tear apart that damn lady with the ridiculous grin she could just imagine her wearing. Brennan was practically snarling at the mansion from the front yard. Marching with heavy steps to the window of her current room, she climbed upwards quickly and closed the open window as she entered.

"She must think this can still work. What is wrong with her?" She hissed, her white skin tight on her knuckles and a murderous glare set on her brows and eyes. She waited patiently behind her door until she heard Angela walk along the hallway. Practically ripping the door off its hinges, Brennan surprised Angela by latching a hand on her arm and not so gently pulling her in the room.

"How could you do this to me, Ange?" Brennan said with pained eyes, ready to strangle her best friend.

Angela looked guilty, but her grin was still in place. She grabbed her shoulders and talked excitedly with hushed whispers. "Honey, don't give up. I know that you're mad but you'll be thanking me very soon. He deserves to know."

The anthropologist's flashing moss eyes were doubtful. They would be tearing up if it was still possible.

"You have no idea what it's like, Ange." She felt betrayed, angry, and upset like no other. "I feel like a monster." She slid down to the floor and hugged her knees. She felt broken as his cologne invaded her senses, the delicious, hot scent wrapping around her like a snake. Her lungs were burning.

Angela stammered, clearly caught off guard. "Sweetie-"

"How could you bring Booth here?" Brennan looked up at her with hollow, jaded eyes.


End file.
